


Eros

by PunkRyuki



Series: A Study In Love [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Blow Jobs, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Bottom!Harry, Bullying, Child Abuse, D/s overtones, F/M, Hand Jobs, Harry's POV, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Porn, Praise Kink, Romance, Switching, top!draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-06 08:27:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 62,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8742373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunkRyuki/pseuds/PunkRyuki
Summary: If the Draco of last year had looked good in the snow, this Draco's element was fire.-----A study in passionate heat, and all-consuming love.





	1. The Order of the Phoenix

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for choosing to read the second installment of my Study In Love series: Eros! This book will focus on passion and a whole lot of sex, as the boys really enter the cusp of puberty. With that being said, this is going to involve a lot of smut and a whole lot of angst. Honestly, the fifth book was my least favorite, simply because of how whiny Harry sounded, so I tried to write this so Harry wasn't so annoying, while still being a pubescent 15 year old, and embracing that Everything Has Gone To Shit (TM) mentality. I thought the movie did it much better.
> 
> Although I checked the Underage warning, that only applies to Harry and Draco, who are both under the age of consent (16), but they are both completely consensual. Though, as you can guess from the tags, will enjoy some adult play. 
> 
> A chapter will be uploaded daily.
> 
> Again, this story hasn't been Brit-picked. If you notice any mistakes or something that sounds wrong, please tell me, and I'll correct it.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and comments are always welcome.

Number 12 Grimmauld Place pushed itself into existence between numbers 11 and 13. Harry stood there, ignoring the tap of Moody's wand on his head to remove the Disillusionment Charm. He'd never be able to get over how magic was able to hide in plain sight. How was it that Muggles could still remain so oblivious? Well, it's not like he hadn't been oblivious for eleven years.  
  
Moody hobbled up to the door, grumbling under his breath, magical eye swerving all-around inside his head. It occurred to Harry then that he didn't actually know this man, as familiar as he might feel. The man he had come to like had really been a Death Eater, and if that didn't keep him up at night, he didn't know what would. Although, the real Moody didn't act much different from his imposter. Barty Crouch Jr. could have made a wonderful career in acting if he hadn't chosen the murderous psychopath route.  
  
The old Auror completely bypassed the silver knocker shaped like a snake and opened the black door. If this was the secret headquarters of some secret group, you'd think they would have locked the door, magical protections withstanding. The inside of the house looked like something out of a haunted film: the wallpaper was dated, lined with heavy portraits that were covered in curtains, and the antique gas lamps only served to cast shadows than to illuminate. The floorboards creaked ominously, their steps leaving dark footprints in the thin layer of dust. It looked as if no one had lived here for a while.

A door at the end of the narrow corridor opened to reveal Mrs. Weasley, looking much more pale than Harry remembered her. "Harry, dear! You made it safely, thank goodness." She patted his shoulders affectionately, and Harry felt a little bit of that dark anger inside of him ease up. It had grown drastically larger over the summer, a cloud that hovered about his head like an unholy halo. "Dinner will have to wait until after the meeting. Your friends are upstairs." She shooed him up the narrow stairs dismissively, and the dark cloud returned.  
  
"Wait, what's going on?" His "Advance Guard" were walking past the stairs and into the room Mrs. Weasley had just exited out of. Tonks, her hair now a startling shade of electric purple, winked at him and bounced along after Shacklebolt. He had instantly liked her the moment he met her, and it hurt a little that she wasn't sticking around to help him.

"No time to explain. I need to dash." She waved him impatiently up the stairs a few steps. "Ron can explain everything. Your door is the first on the right. Now, off with you." Once she had bullied him up the stairs, she disappeared down and into that room. He swallowed down his irritation with her.

With no other course, he continued up the stairs, passing by shrunken heads of house-elves mounted on the wall. Cor, this really was a dreadful house. Had people actually once lived here? When he reached the door, he could hear muffled talking from the other side. His heart sped up in anticipation. He turned the knob and pushed open the door tantalizingly slow.  
  
Sitting on a cushion on the floor in a black button-up shirt and black trousers was Draco Malfoy. He looked up at the creak of the door, and his eyes widened, mouth hanging open just slightly. He looked terrible, honestly. The bags under his eyes only made his pale skin look sallow (which the dark clothing didn't help any) and his hair was limp and lifeless. Harry was struck with such a powerful sensation of longing that it knocked the breath out of him.  
  
His view of Draco was annoyingly blocked by the torso of Ron, who had been sitting on the floor as well, and had leapt up to greet him. However, Hermione beat him to the punch, jumping off of the rickety bed to envelop Harry in a tight hug. "Harry! It's so good to see you!"  
  
"Let the man breathe, will you." Ron smiled at him from over her shoulder.

She released him shyly, stepping back to allow him into the room. By that time, Draco had already got up to his feet, watching him with a blank expression. He saw what it was they had all been sitting around. On the floor, inside of a glowing golden circle, a miniature dragon hopped around on what looked like a very elaborate Victorian dollhouse. It perched on top of the belvedere and shot a small ball of fire at Harry that never made it outside of the magical circle. It had always given him attitude before.

"What's going on?" he asked, and hopefully this time he would get answers.

Hermione closed the door behind him. "This is the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, a secret society made by Dumbledore during the first war to defy You-Know-Who. He's resurrected it, for obvious reasons."  
  
"Couldn't have put that down in a letter, could you?" He didn't bother keeping the venom out of his voice.  
  
Hermione took a step back. "We wanted to tell you, Harry. I swear! But Dumbledore made us promise not to."

"It's not like we know much else either," Ron added in helpfully. "They say we're too young."

"Dumbledore doesn't trust me." He didn't understand. What had he done to make Dumbledore hate him?

"Not a nice feeling, isn't it?" Draco's voice was deeper than Harry remembered it, heavier. He watched Harry with sharp, silver eyes even if his face was carefully blank.

He supposed he deserved that. "And what are you doing here?" He didn't mean for that to come out as accusatory as it did. "I mean, shouldn't you be at your manor?"  
  
Draco regarded him coolly, before answering in a tone one might use to describe an encyclopedia, "I ran away from home, Potter. I've defected."

He knew he was gaping, standing there and looking like an idiot. Never had he imagined that this would be the reason no one had responded to any of his letters.

"Look at them, off in their own little world already," Ron muttered bitterly. "It's like we're not even here."  
  
Hermione looked a little less offended and little too knowing. She grabbed Ron by the wrist, tugging him out of the room. "Come on, Ronald. They're going to need to sort through some things before we can say hello."

Harry felt a little guilty at not paying them more attention, but he was grateful to her all the same for giving them some privacy. Draco's eyebrows knotted together, glaring at the door behind him, but he made no other movements.

"Tell me what happened." That wasn't exactly how he had planned to start this conversation.  
  
"I told you, Potter. I ran away."

"Call me Harry."

Draco crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Oh? Isn't that a bit too chummy for a future Death Eater? Are you sure you want me acting so familiar with you?"

"Right. I deserve that. Look, Draco, I'm sorry about the way I acted at the end of summer term. I was still in shock over Cedric's death, and I was terrified that Voldemort might jump out of the shadows at any time to try and finish the job. Look, as soon as I had some time to think over it at the Dursley's, I regretted it. I wanted to write you, but..."

Draco's face softened. "You couldn't risk your letter being intercepted by my Death Eater parents."

"It's not like that." At Draco's withering look, he amended, "Well, a little, but you had wanted to keep our relationship a secret, and I didn't want to risk angering you further by not being careful."

The arms uncrossed and fell at Draco's sides. "There's no point in trying to hide it now. Everyone already figured it out when I rushed to your side at the end of the Third Task, last year. And I've probably been disowned by my father already, so the worst has already happened."

Harry looked at his shoes. "You didn't have to do that. I would have understood if you wanted to keep away from me and lie low."  
  
He looked up at Draco's snort. "Contrary to popular belief, Potter, the world doesn't revolve around you. I had my own reasons for running away."

"Which are?"

Draco didn't answer. Instead, he took a seat on a wooden chair by a finely crafted dresser. He watched the dragon crawl along the roof of the miniature house, talons knocking down a few shingles. When he didn't speak for another minute, Harry sat down on the edge of the bed, cringing at the loud squeak it made.

Without looking up, Draco said softly, "I've met him."

He knew exactly who he was talking about. "Did he...?"

In answer, Draco pulled up both of the sleeves of his shirt, revealing smooth, blank skin. Harry let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "I ran away before they could. It was supposed to happen, but my mother..." The sentence trailed off, never to be continued.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"You almost sound concerned."

He bit back an angry retort. He knew it was unfair to lash out at him just because his guilt burned him up inside. "I'll always be concerned about you, Draco. You're special to me."

His face twitched, a crack in his cold mask. "Special like Weasley and Granger?"

"I don't want to kiss them."

Another crack. "Don't think you can sweet-talk me back into my good graces, Harry."

He smiled, leaning forward. "You finally called me Harry."

Draco flushed, crossing both his legs and his arms now, looking out the window into the evening sky. "What makes you think I'll take you back so easily?"

"Because you're here. Because you ran away from your family, from what's most important to you, but you still thought to bring the dragon."

Draco sniffed. "His name is Harry Jr., by the way."

"You named him after me?"

"Yes, he also likes to annoy me, and he's about as easy to befriend as you are."

Harry chuckled, glad to see Draco crack a small smile and look at him. "I really am sorry." It probably would be more convincing if he could stop smiling, but he always had a hard time hiding his smiles around Draco's. The pull of those muscles felt good after nearly five weeks of disuse. "I didn't really mean any of those things I said. Can you forgive me?"

His nose lifted a fraction. "I'll consider it my good deed for the year."

"Only one?"

"I've got a reputation to upkeep."

He laughed outright this time. "Look at you, trying to act all tough and mean, but I know the truth, Draco Malfoy. Underneath all that Slytherin bluster, you're just a big ol' sap."

"I have never been so insulted in my life. Where's a glove so I can hit you with it and challenge you to a duel to defend my honor?" He made a show of looking around.

"Who's the one who decorated the Transfigurations courtyard so that we could have a romantic dancing date? Who's the one who taught me ice skating just so he had an excuse to always hold my hand - Yes, Draco, I knew of your ulterior motives. All while telling me a tragic love story. Admit it, you're a hopeless romantic."

"Then who's the bigger fool for falling for it?" But Draco was finally looking at him as he had done that day in the clock tower, when the colors of their mouths had meshed together into a dark fuchsia.

_Crack!_

With a loud pop, Fred and George suddenly appeared in front of Harry, just missing the dragon's house by a few inches. "Harry, thought I heard those dulcet tones."

"Did we interrupt something?" George's eyebrow waggle was entirely unnecessary.

Behind him, Draco stood up. "Yes, now please go bother someone else."

Fred turned around to face him. "Oh Malfoy, you know you just can't resist our charms."

"Now that we know you've got no claws-"  
  
"-your cute little threats have no effect on us." Fred leaned smugly on Draco's shoulder, poking his cheek fondly. Harry knew from experience how soft those cheeks really were.

"Get away from him," he yelled it a bit more loudly than he had intended, but the twins were seriously annoying him. "Go flaunt your Apparation skills somewhere else."

Fred straighted, removing his weight from Draco. "Ooh, someone doesn't like to share."

George looked at him with a pouty lip. "And here we just wanted to say hello to our favorite Fifth Year."

Fred shook his head forlornly. "And after we came all this way to tell you to come to dinner."

"Really, I'm hurt."

"Oh, sod off, you two." Draco pushed them out the door, ignoring their laughter. He turned with a heavy sigh back to Harry. "We should probably head down to dinner, though. I'm sure you're feeling a bit peckish."

Harry nodded, following him out into the corridor. Fred and George were already gone, probably Apparated straight down into the dining room. "You seem awful chummy with them."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm not. They're chummy with me." They walked down the stairs, but they were so narrow he had to walk behind the blond. "And I can't exactly stay hostile towards the people who have kindly taken me in."

Before their conversation could go further, they reached the dining room, and all other thoughts flew out of his head. "Sirius!" He jogged over to his godfather, who stood up from his chair to give him a warm hug. He looked much better than the last time Harry had seen him. His hair had been styled and brushed, and his clothes were austere, but comfortable.

"Harry, I'm so glad to see you." He guided Harry to the chair beside his, warm hand still on his shoulder.

His attention was taken away from his smiling godfather by a friendly greeting from Remus, who sat in the chair opposite Sirius. That's when he noticed that Draco, with a frown on his face, had been forced to take the only other seat available a few chairs down from Remus, settled in between Bill Weasley and...Severus Snape. "What's Snape doing here?" He couldn't believe his cruel Potions professor was sitting at the dinner table, like a family friend over for Christmas.  
  
"He's a member of the Order," Hermione on his left helpfully explained. "He's a spy for us, remember?"

Snape flicked his beady little eyes over to him. "You see, Mr. Potter, I have a purpose here. The real question is why are _you_ here?"

Harry's teeth clacked together.

"Snape," Sirius barked warningly.

Snape's face curled into a sneer, but Remus stepped in before the hostilities could grow. "Sirius, please..."

Sirius' shoulders relaxed, and he leaned back in his chair, though he still glared menacingly down the table. Snape only sniffed derisively before turning back to the carved roast in front of him. Lightly, Sirius started up some small talk. "So, Harry, how's your summer been?"

"Awful."

He grinned. "I don't know what you're complaining about. Personally, I would have welcomed a Dementor attack. Anything to just stretch my legs a bit."

Oh, right. Sirius couldn't exactly leave the house. "Can't you go out as Padfoot?"

"No. Wormtail has likely already informed his master about my Animagus form, so it's useless as a disguise. The only thing I could do was offer up my family's house as headquarters."

"This was your house? You used to live here?" He couldn't imagine growing up in such a dreary place. Even the Dursleys had allowed in some sunshine.  
  
Sirius' smile turned bitter. "Until I was sixteen and ran away from home to go live with the Potters." His gaze flicked towards the end of the table. "A trait I share with another now, it seems."  
  
Harry glanced at Draco, who ate just as silently and grimly as Snape did. They sat there like two Dementors in a sea of bright and bubbling conversation. The Weasleys had never been very quiet during meals. Harry shuddered at an all too recent memory.

Dementors in Little Whinging, Dudley moaning on the ice-covered ground. It had been so hard to try to produce his Patronus, it had taken him three tries, and when he finally got out more than a wisp, a strange, morphing blob had tackled the Dementors. It had four legs, a long, slithering tail, and certainly no antlers. Its features changed constantly, like a reflection in rippling water. He was too afraid to ask what that meant.

"-in Little Whinging. That's no coincidence. They had to have been sent there by Voldemort." Sirius was looking at him speculatively.

And just like that, the conversation at the table died, as if hit with the Killing Curse, and everyone sat still in front of their bowls of stew, attending the funeral. Even Snape seemed a bit tense.

Sirius continued on. "They were one of his supporters, back during the first war. It's foolish of Fudge to think they won't turn to his side now that he's returned. All manner of dark creatures-"

"Sirius!" Mrs. Weasley hissed loudly. "Say much more, and you might as well induct him into the Order."

"Good," Harry blurted. "I want to fight. I want to help."

Sirius gestured towards Harry with a sassy look that said _See?_  
  
Mrs. Weasley didn't stop. "He's just a boy."

"He's not a child."

All eyes bounced back and forth between the two like they were watching a tennis match. The tension was steadily increasing like a balloon, and Harry didn't want to see what would happen when it finally popped.

"He's not an adult, either. He's not James, no matter how much he may look like him."

She as good as knocked the air out of him. Several other people held their breath too.

"I know perfectly well who he is," Sirius said coldly.

Mrs. Weasley stood up now, Mr. Weasley beside her looking incredibly uncomfortable. "Do you? Because the way you talk about him, it's as if you have your best friend back, and you think you can go off on dangerous adventures."

Harry suddenly remembered something Remus had told him last year, about how Sirius had once had a crush on his father. Maybe it had never left. The stew in his stomach coagulated, feeling like a cold weight. Could Sirius really just be using him as a replacement for his father? Even worse, did he blame Harry for his death?

"He's already been on dangerous adventures. He'll go on more." Harry felt a swell of pride and affection for his godfather. Sirius seemed to be the only adult who understood him, who trusted him. "If anyone has a right to fight against Voldemort, it's him."

"You'll get him killed. You don't understand. You don't have children."

Sirius stood up so fast that his chair knocked into the wall behind him, before clattering loudly to the floor. His eyes were livid, his hair wild, and his lips pulling back into a snarl. Harry had never seen him so angry, and it frightened him. Remus stood up too, just as Mr. Weasley stood up to put a calming hand on his wife's shoulder. She blinked, her anger fading away to be replaced with horror at what she had just said. Sirius stormed out of the room.

"Please don't be mad at him," Remus said, either to Mrs. Weasley or all of them. "He's just been feeling a bit stir-crazy... I'll go talk to him." And then he dashed out after Sirius.

The silence was broken by a derisive snort. "Now who is the child?" Snape drawled.

Harry jumped to his feet, though his chair remained upright, if just pushed back a smidge. "Don't talk about him like that."

"Harry-"

He swatted off Hermione's comforting hand, and left to go after Sirius. It took him a while, but he managed to find them in a parlor room by the front door. He paused by the doorway, peering in, feeling a bit too nervous to announce his presence. He recognized this room as the one he had spoken to Remus in during his Fire-Call last year, the same drab curtains and ugly black lampshade, with dark purple tassels. Sitting on the floor, staring at the flames was a black dog, hair wiry and untamed. Remus stood behind him, looking exasperated and hands held before him in a pleading manner.

"Please, Sirius, talk to me."

The dog didn't move, and most certainly didn't revert back to a human.

"I know how much you loved him. I know how much his death still hurts you. I can imagine 12 years in Azkaban did little to help the grieving process."

A sound like a snort came from the dog, but it just as easily could have been a sniffle.

"I know you wanted to raise Harry, still do, but there's nothing we can do about it now. We're in no position to raise a child, wanted criminal and werewolf. He's better off with Lily's sister."

A low growl that didn't even raise the dog's hackles

A sigh. "It has to be them, Sirius. It has to be Lily's blood relative. They're the only ones alive."

Still, the dog did not look at him, as obsessed with the fire as it was.

The slope of Remus' back hunched, his shoulders drooping. "Please, Sirius. We spent 12 years apart. Let's not spend any more."  
  
Finally, the dog looked at him, closed its eyes, and opened them as a man. He strode over to Remus and pulled him into a hug, and Harry felt instantly like he was intruding on too private of a moment, so he left.

 

* * *

  
His nice dress shoes, the same ones he had worn to the Yule Ball, clacked loudly on the tile floor as he exited the courtroom. His relief at not being expelled nor having his wand broken was dwarfed by the poignant fact that Dumbledore was actively avoiding him. He'd not said one word to Harry, not even so much as looked at him, and when he had called out to him to show his appreciation for coming to speak for him at his trial, the old wizard had all but run away. Even Draco had shown a little more tact when he had hated Harry's guts.

And when he bumped into Lucius Malfoy talking in hushed whispers with Cornelius Fudge, he just knew today was going to be terrible. The two halted their conversation the moment they spotted him, staring at him. And then Lucius was marching over towards him at a furious pace, not even pausing to say some parting words to the Minister. Unconsciously, Harry took a couple steps back, knowing that it wasn't smart to back himself into a wall.

"My son, Draco, is he okay? Is he safe?" He loomed over him, his cane pinning his shoulder to the wall rather painfully. That silver snake head had sharp fangs. "He's with your lot now, isn't he? Answer me!" Now he knew where Draco got it from.

"H-He's fine, now that he's not under your thumb. Wait, how did you know he was with us?" That should probably be concerning. Had Draco been leaking information about the Headquarters to his father?

The cane retracted from his shoulder and he rubbed it with a grimace. Lucius looked much calmer, though a panicked gleam still remained in his eyes. "Severus told me that he would keep him safe, and given his connections with both sides, I assumed he would put him under the protection of Dumbledore. Worry not, Potter, I have no idea where your little hideout is, and for the sake of my son, I have no wish to find out." And then he swivelled around and strode elegantly down the hall and out of sight.

Harry had never liked Lucius Malfoy, had only ever been able to see him as a bully and a villain, but now he saw him as a father as well.

"Ah, Harry, there you are." Mr. Weasley strode up to him with a smile. "I heard the good news. Reckon we head back home to tell everyone else?"

Harry nodded and followed him back to Grimmauld Place. 


	2. The Boggart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "'Please.' He didn't know what he was begging for so silently, he just knew he needed more, needed to meld their bodies together until he couldn't tell where was Harry and where was Draco."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the smut begins...

As expected, the others welcomed him back with cheers and congratulations. Ron had given him some chocolate biscuits, and Hermione rambled on about how stupid the trial had been, about how the law had been on Harry's side, no matter how much the Minister might wish to bend them. Draco had been the only one not to shower him with praise, merely smiling at him in neither surprise nor relief. When Harry had asked him about it, he simply said, "I doubt even the Minister for Magic could keep Harry Potter from Hogwarts."

Currently, they were spending their time cleaning the small library. The house had not had a single inhabitant, well, excluding the crotchety old elf Kreacher, in over ten years, and it showed. Harry coughed, as a particularly thick cloud of dust sprung up and hit him in the face, even under the kerchief tied over his nose.

"Oh wow." Draco paused in his dusting to pull a book from a shelf. "It's a first edition of _Hel in Helheim_." He flipped open the cover. "And it's been signed, too!"

Hermione made her way to his side to peer at the book. "There's only sixteen copies in the whole world."

"Well, if anyone were to have this book, it would be the 'Noble And Most Ancient House of Black.' There's some pretty dark stuff in here."

"Do you think there might be a book in here about the Alchemical Paradox?"

"Maybe- wait, is that a book by Phineas Bourne?"

"That's not just a book; that's his personal lab journal!"

Ron stepped up to him, eyeing the two warily as they continued to excitedly prattle on. "Do you have any idea of what they're talking about, mate?"

"Not a clue. They seem much friendlier now."

"Well, once Malfoy stopped being a prat, he turned out to be a huge boffin. I think Hermione likes having someone she can get into intellectual debates with. They still argue a lot, but now it's over books and stuff."

Harry swallowed down a sting of jealousy. He should be glad that his friends were accepting Draco into the fold. Isn't that what he wanted, for them all to be friends together? 'But it was nice having him all to myself.' He berated himself for having such a selfish thought.

 

* * *

 

After two whole days of cleaning, Harry could understand why his godfather might be so quick to go spare. He was already feeling a bit of cabin fever. Or maybe it was all this dust. Anyone would develop health issues in these conditions. It made him a bit testy, so in order not to fly off the handle at his friends, he chose a room to clean on his own. The Black house seemed to have no shortage of rooms, many of them Harry couldn't even derive the purpose of, if only to hold all of their things. One of these things was Buckbeak.

He shouldn't be so surprised, after all, Buckbeak also had to go into hiding, but it seemed so strange to find a hippogriff in the ornate bedroom. The place was trashed, broken furniture and the large bed had been picked apart until it resembled more of a nest.

"I love what he's done with the place," Sirius laughed from behind him.

Harry started, unaware that he had a visitor. He turned to find Sirius holding a wicker basket full of dead ferrets. The sight of them instantly reminded him of Draco, and his stomach turned. Sirius tossed one over to Buckbeak who caught it easily and gobbled it right up.

"This was my mother's room, you see." His grin was wicked, and Harry found himself smiling too.

"I take it you two didn't get on well?"

His godfather snorted. "As well as a house on fire. The Blacks are an ancient pure-blood family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. A long line of Slytherins and Dark Wizards, not unlike the Malfoys. You know, Draco and I are actually related. He's my first cousin once removed."

"Really?"

"You'll find that most pure-blood families are related to each other in some way, however distantly." He tossed another ferret. "Even your dad and I are related, though its from a rather far branch of the family tree." He smiled down at him, as if they were sharing some sort of inside joke together. "Of course, I didn't want to fit into my mother's preconceived mould of what kind of wizard I should be. She was furious with me when I had been sorted into Gryffindor. The first Black to ever not be in Slytherin." His eyes sparked with pride.

"That's why I can understand the situation Draco is in," he continued. "I always hated my parents growing up, so running away had been easy, but Draco... He loves his parents, doesn't he? He believed in the whole blood purity rubbish. And yet, he still came here." He looked down at him. "You should be proud to call him your friend, Harry. Bravery like that, it's a wonder he wasn't sorted into Gryffindor."

"I am proud of him." But what could have happened to make Draco turn against everything he had been raised to believe?

"And now, here the three of us are. In hiding." Sirius tossed another ferret to Buckbeak. Harry felt a pang of pity for the poor creature. Flying on Buckbeak's back had been one of his happiest memories, and for the majestic beast to be stuck in this small room, unable to stretch his wings... The urge to hug his godfather was strong. He wished they would find Wormtail already and set his godfather free.

Then a thought occurred to him. "Will Draco be allowed to go to school?" Or would he be trapped in this dreary house with Sirius and Buckbeak?

"There's no reason for him not to. He'll be safe there, under Dumbledore, and should Lucius try to use his position or his guardianship over Draco to remove him, there are ways for Dumbledore to keep him in school."

Harry didn't think Lucius would do that, though. He had showed no sign of wanting to take his son back, only desperate concern for his safety. Could it possibly be that he didn't want for his son to follow in his footsteps? The curiosity burned him, but he knew better than to try to pry answers from Draco. He still had so many well guarded secrets he kept close to his heart, and Harry would just have to wait for him to divulge them on his own, no matter how much he yearned to know everything about the Malfoy heir. Strange how he could have spent nearly half a year snogging the boy and still not know everything about him.

"And, um..." His godfather trailed off, looking uncharacteristically nervous. "About...that night. I know you are not your father, Harry. Remus tells me that I idolize him too much, and that I'm trying to push that image of him onto you." He threw his last ferret, which left him standing there with an empty basket. "I can admit that some part of me didn't want James to get married." He quickly looked at Harry, his words coming out faster. "It's not that I didn't like Lily. Your mother was an amazing witch and a fierce friend. I just....once he got married, he'd have kids, and he'd be less likely to do reckless nonsense with me. I was afraid that we would lose our Prongs, our Marauder. We got into a big row over it, too. He called me immature, said I had my head stuck in the past... He was completely right, of course." He smiled bitterly at himself.  
  
Then he turned a soft gaze onto him, and the bitterness faded away. "And then I met you. You were just a wee little thing, so small, and you drooled a lot." He chuckled lightly. "You always laughed when I changed into Padfoot. James said that maybe I should turn into a dog full-time." He laughed, and Harry laughed along with him. "I seriously considered it, you know. Becoming the Potter family dog, if only so that I could always be there to make you laugh."

Harry's eyes burned, and he clenched his fists tightly. "Have you and Remus ever considered having a child together?"

Sirius looked like he just might cry too. His eyes were red-rimmed and watery. "Yes, but he's right. We're in no state to raise a kid together. I wanted to raise you, take you away from those dreadful Muggles, but this is no life for a child. You deserve to be out in the sun, free."

"I'd rather be with you. Please, I don't mind living here if that's where you are."

Sirius made a choked sound, and turned away. "That's kind of you, but no. Dumbledore is right, you should stay with your relatives. You're much safer there."

Harry didn't see how. What could Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon do if a Death Eater came knocking at their door? Although, Voldemort hadn't found him yet, so maybe there was some kind of magical protection on the house. Not for the last time, Harry cursed his inability to help those he loved the most.

 

* * *

 

Fred and George held up a long string of flesh that ended in an ear. It was quite gross, but Harry could understand the benefits. Unfortunately, the adults had placed an Impenetrable Charm on the door, so they had no hopes of overhearing the meeting.

"I'm glad to see you two are using my money wisely."

"We haven't got a storefront yet, but we're working on that." Fred rolled up the Extendable Ear and put it in his pocket.

"So far we're planning on selling to students at Hogwarts-"

"-to generate enough revenue for a brick-and-mortar."

They really had put a lot of thought into this. Harry had just given them his Triwizard earnings because they were there and the sight of that gold made him sick, but they were really taking Weasley's Wizard Wheezes seriously.

"I wouldn't let Granger hear you," Draco sauntered up to them, where they were leaning against the banister. "She's been made Prefect, and I don't think she'll appreciate you testing your products on students. I, for one, wholly endorse your business, and care little about what you do to Gryffindor students."

Fred regarded him with a smirk. "So you plan to be benevolent with your Prefection?"

George leaned in to conspiratorially stage-whisper to his brother, "Do you think we'll have to worry about Ronniekins, being a Prefect too and all? 'Mione's got him whipped."

"Maybe if we give him some free product, we can make him look the other way."

Draco shook his head, tutting. "Handing out bribes to the authorities. How very un-Gryffindor of you two."

"Maybe prolonged exposure to a nasty Slytherin has infected us."

The two shared mischievous grins before Disapparating. Harry wondered if they ever bothered walking anywhere anymore. They certainly loved to flaunt their ability to use magic outside of school now that they had come of age. For the first time in a few days, Draco and Harry were alone. With so many people in the house at all times, it had been nearly impossible to speak with the boy alone.

"I'm surprised you support them."  
  
Draco looked at him. "You shouldn't be. They have plenty of useful items for sneaky Slytherins. I like the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, myself."

He could remember a bit of a prankster peeking out from Draco last year. No wonder he and the twins got along so well. And Hermione. And Ron. In fact, Draco seemed to have charmed just about everybody. He always knew Draco had the capacity to be friends with everyone. His stomach turned.

"Come on," Draco grabbed his hand, tugging him along. "We're supposed to clean up the attic today."

"Just us?"

His gaze flicked to a painting of regal man sneering at them from above his cravat. "I may have negotiated a trade-off with Granger and Weasley."

Harry smiled, skipping a little so that he was walking side-by-side, instead of being dragged along, but he didn't let go of his hand. The attic was even more filthy than the rest of the house. Old furniture sat grey with dust, and cobwebs hung in thick curtains from the low ceiling. He could imagine it had been Ron who had wanted the trade-off. There were chests stacked on top of chests, a broken crib, and even a rather large cauldron in one corner. They really had their work cut out for them.

"This place is a mess," Harry covered his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket so that he wouldn't inhale too much dust. "It'll take us forever to clean it." Neither of them knew any good cleaning spells.

"I know." Draco turned to him with a wicked grin that made Harry's heart skip a beat.

"Oh." He sneezed. "Could we clean up a little bit though? All this dust is making my allergies flare up."

Draco laughed, a sound he hadn't heard in a while, and it set the contents of his belly boiling. He really had missed him over the summer.

They got to dusting, using brooms and rags to push the thick layer of dust out of the way. The dust bunnies were so big, he thought they just might come to life. They looked inside everything that they found. A long stack of wooden boxes had revealed some faded Christmas decorations, and a chest had contained a moth-eaten set of children's clothes.   
  
Draco picked up the splinters of a broken chair with disdain. "Ugh, this place reminds me of the Shrieking Shack."

"Is that why it's got you feeling so randy?"

"Harry!" Draco's face was bright red and absolutely scandalized.

The laughter burst out of him, bubbling up from his gut like escaping steam. They had used the Shrieking Shack as their snogging spot more often than not. It wasn't the most romantic setting, but it was private.

Draco refused to look at him, the tips of his ears still red, as he moved a sagging cardboard box off of an old writing desk. It shook a bit. Curious, Draco pulled it open before Harry could warn him that that might not be the best idea. A heavy black cloud poured out of the desk, causing Draco to jump back in fear. The smoke pooled on the floor, thickening until it formed shapes.

The blond gasped, hands slapped over his mouth, his entire frame shaking. On the floor, in a pool of blood, were three bodies: Narcissa Malfoy, lying on her back with a knife in her chest, Lucius Malfoy, on his front, hand still clutching the blade embedded in his wife, a similar one protruding from his back, and himself, Harry, propped up against the legs of the desk, a look of horror frozen on his face. Above them all stood a hooded figure, its back turned towards them, but Harry knew who it was supposed to be. Beside it stood another Draco Malfoy, his hands covered in blood.

"Oh Merlin," Draco sobbed.

That jolted Harry into action. "It's just a boggart," he told him, but the boy was still shivering, wide eyes fixed on those corpses. No choice, Harry jumped in front of him, wand out and ready to produce the Patronus Charm.

But the scene did not morph into a Dementor. Instead, the hooded figure shrunk a little, until it was more Draco's height. With a slash of its arm, the Draco imposter fell to the ground in a spray of blood, landing next to the dead Harry. He cried out, even knowing that the real Draco was still alive behind him. At the noise, the mysterious figure turned around slowly. But instead of seeing Voldemort, he saw himself, eyes glowing red, lips pulled back in a disgusting facsimile of a smile.

Then his view was blocked by the back of a tweed jacket, and a deep, male voice shouted, _"Riddikulus!"_ A red balloon made a rather rude noise on its propulsion about the room, before flopping on the ground lifelessly. The two of them were shoved out of the attic by Sirius and into the nearest bedroom, which he realized now was Ginny and Hermione's. They were sat on the bed, a quilted throw wrapped around them both, and chocolate shoved into their hands.   
  
Remus returned not too long after. "I've banished the Boggart."

Harry just nodded, nibbling on his piece of chocolate. That had been as bad as the Dementor, maybe even worse.

"I think it best the two of you clean another room."

He nodded again.

"Come on, Remus," Sirius guided his lover out the door. "I think it best we give them some time to rest." Remus nodded, and let himself be guided out the door.

When the door shut behind them, Harry leaned to the side, so that he could feel the warmth of Draco pressed up against his arm through the blanket. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Me neither."

And then Draco flung around and kissed him fiercely, hands grasping onto the sides of his head like a lifeline. Harry kissed back just as passionately, flinging the throw off of him so that he could run his hands through Draco's hair, soaking in his warmth. He knew what Draco was doing, running his hands all over his head, lips desperately attacking his. He was trying to reassure himself that Harry was still here, still alive. Harry was doing the same thing.  
  
He pulled his lips from Harry's with a sob, as if he were ripping off a scab, and peppered the rest of his face with wet kisses. "I thought you were-"

"Me too."

"I was so-"

"Me too."

His fingers trailed down Harry's jaw to his neck, and then down to his collar bone, leaving a trail of fire behind them. Harry gasped, panting into Draco's cheek. Their lips connected again, the force of it pushing Harry onto his back on the bed, and Draco followed, never letting their lips part. He felt something warm and wet run along his lips, and it startled the breath out of him. It tickled him, and yet Harry found he wanted more of that feeling. He dragged his hands up Draco's back, feeling the muscle shift underneath his skin, the jut of his shoulder blades, wishing he could pull his shirt out of his trousers and run his hands underneath it so he could taste that bare skin.

"Please." He didn't know what he was begging for so silently, he just knew he needed more, needed to meld their bodies together until he couldn't tell where was Harry and where was Draco. Instead, Draco did the exact opposite, flying off of him and onto the floor. The air around him felt too cold, without the warm press of Draco's body, and it was as sobering as a bucket of ice water. He sat up quickly, to find Mrs. Weasley with her wand pointed at them.

Oh no.

"What were you two boys doing? Wait, don't answer that. I know." She returned her wand to the pocket of her cardigan, giving them stern looks. Draco scrambled to his feet, face flushed, hair a mess, and lips bruised. He looked delicious.

"How long has this been going on?"

A jolt of fear ran through Harry. Everyone said it was okay, but maybe not all wizards and witches... "Since last year."

She nodded. "I thought so. The way he acted in the hospital wing... Alright, sit up, both of you. I think it's time we had a talk."  
  
Harry straightened on the bed, feeling his muscles tense. Draco sat down next to him, smoothing out his shirt and looking very much like he hoped the bed just might swallow him whole.

Mrs. Weasley sat on the other twin bed across from theirs, a kind, motherly frown on her face. "Now, boys, I understand you have feelings for each other, and...urges, but I will have no hanky-panky in this house, you understand?" He couldn't believe Mrs. Weasley had just said the word "hanky-panky."  
  
With a discombobulating cocktail of both relief and horror, Harry realized that Mrs. Weasley was about to give them a much different talk than he had imagined. He groaned and hid his face in his hands, wishing the boggart would come back, or the Dementors, anything to stop these embarrassing words from coming out of her mouth.

"Now don't be like that. I've had this same talk with others. Just because you're both boys doesn't mean I'll look the other way. You both are too young to be doing such mature acts. And I, uh, understand that there are ways for you to...relieve yourselves."

"Oh god..."

"I just want you two to be safe."

He heard Draco mutter under his breath, too quiet for Mrs. Weasley to hear, "I didn't run away for this."

Harry didn't know how long they suffered before Sirius came to their rescue. He gave Harry a proud wink when he learned what they had been up to. "Let's end it there, Molly. Haven't they been through enough today?"

"Please, Sirius, it's not like I'm torturing them."

"I think they beg to differ."

She looked at them, as if seeing for the first time the misery on their faces. "Oh, alright. I think I was just about done anyways." She stood up. "At least they won't have to share a dorm together." Then she walked out.

Harry's sigh of relief was interrupted by Sirius stepping forward. "If you two, ah, have any questions or need anything, you can feel free to ask me or Remus. I can guarantee you we'll have more useful information for your situation than Molly."

"Please, just go." Harry wasn't going to be able to show his face in public ever again.

Sirius laughed, but left anyway.

This was horrible, utterly horrible. Mrs. Weasley was never going to let them be alone together ever again. She'd probably move him into someone else's room, instead of letting him share one with Ron and Draco.

"I'll be happy if I never have to see another Weasley again."

 

* * *

 

When they boarded the train, Draco stood in the corridor, staring at their compartment. A couple of First Years pushed past him, laughing. Hermione and Ron sat on the leather seats, arguing over Pigwidgeon. Harry didn't sit down yet, watching the debate happening behind Draco's eyes. He knew what he was deciding.

He stood in the doorway, leaning against the the sliding doors. "You can go with them. It's ok."

Draco didn't move. "Will they even take me back? Everything is different now."

"They're your friends, Draco."

"Are they?"

Harry didn't want Draco to go down the train to the Slytherin's car, but if he were in his shoes, he'd resent not having anything for himself. Despite what he might think, Harry was sure that Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson considered Draco their friend. And after a month locked in a house with the Weasley's, he needed an escape, even if Harry wanted to keep him completely. He really needed to get this possessiveness of his under control. "You'll always have me."

The look Draco gave him reminded him of pie filling: warm, sweet, and gooey. "Is that a proposal, Potter?"

"Oh, off with you!" Harry turned away and sat himself next to Ron, but he didn't close the door. When he finally gathered the courage to look back up, Draco was gone.

And then, with all the tact of a giant, Hermione said, "So I heard Mrs. Weasley caught you two snogging." Ron choked on his jelly slug. Harry threw the hood of his jacket over his head and pulled the draw strings so that it cinched close, leaving only his nose and mouth peeking out. "Glad to see you two have made up."

"Bloody hell, Hermione, give a bloke a warning, will ya?" Ron sounded like he was pounding on his chest.

Her giggle was as light as birdsong. "I'm sorry, Harry, but it's just too funny. You know we'll help you with any clandestine meetings."

"Thanks, Hermione," he grumbled. He couldn't see it, but he just knew she was grinning like a lunatic.

"And I'd avoid Fred and George if I were you. They were the ones who told me."

Brilliant. They'd never let him live this down. "I'm glad to see you guys became friends while I was away."

This time, it was Ron who spoke. "Well, it's hard to hate him when the poor sod is obviously madly in love with you. You were all he ever wanted to talk about, well, aside from schoolwork." He'd bet a knut Ron was giving Hermione a look.

Harry pulled open his hood enough to uncover his eyes. "You think he's in love with me?"

They both laughed good-naturedly. Ron looked wistful. "Who would have thought Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter would get together?"

They teased him a little bit more, before talk turned to the upcoming year. Draco didn't return.

When the train arrived at Hogsmeade Station, they departed, changed into their uniforms. The flow of the students pushed them along to where the carriages were waiting, but this time Harry noticed a new addition.   
  
"What are those?"

Hermione looked at him curiously. "What?"

"Those, right there, pulling the carriages." They looked like the zombie versions of winged horses. They were dark in color, practically skin and bone, with leathery wings, and a reptilian face ending in a beak.

"Nothing's pulling the carriages, mate," Ron looked at him as if he had gone barmy. "They're pulling themselves, like always."

A soft voice, like a night breeze on the Black Lake spoke from the carriage nearest them. "It's okay. I can see them too." From behind a strange looking magazine, blue eyes underneath blonde bangs looked at him. "You're just as sane as I am."

"I know you," Hermione started. "You're Loony- Luna Lovegood."

She smiled dreamily at them, little radishes dangling from her ears. "Hello. I know who you three are. Would you like to share a carriage? No one ever seems to want to share one with me, for some reason."

Harry shrugged and hopped in. This girl was a bit weird, and made him feel sleepy, but he had a thing for blonds. The others followed him, and once they were all settled, the carriages moved, pulled by those strange looking horses. To make conversation, he pointed to the strange magazine Luna had been reading, though she stopped now that the carriage moved along. "What's that you were reading?"

"It's The Quibbler. My dad's the editor. We believe you, my father and I. That You-Know-Who came back to life, and you fought him."

Well, at least someone did. "Er, thanks, I guess. So what are those things?"

"They're called thestrals. They can only be seen by those who have seen and understood death. People tend to avoid them because of that."

Hermione and Ron looked a little uncomfortable next to him, but he was smiling. He liked Luna, he had decided. His first impression of a person was generally right, and he got a good feeling from this strange girl.

When they arrived at the Great Hall, Luna went to the Ravenclaw table, and they seated themselves at their usual spot at the Gryffindor table. While the new First Years (a rather small amount this time) were sorted into their houses, Harry's eyes scanned the Slytherin table. Draco wasn't in his normal spot, which was directly across the room from him so that whenever they looked up they would meet each other's eyes. It took a while, but he found him at the very end, closest to the doors. He sat alone, and was it just him or did the other Slytherins seem like they were sitting a bit further away than normal?

Dumbledore gave his usual Start-of-Term speech, making some announcements. Hagrid was temporarily being replaced by Professor Grubbly-Plank, and Harry wondered what had happened to him. This would be the first year that Hagrid wasn't there to greet him at the start of the year. And then he announced Umbridge, a toad-like woman dressed in all pink, including a plump bow in her curled hair.

"She was at my hearing," Harry whispered to his friends.

She interrupted Dumbledore in the middle of his speech, and started her own. As her voice droned on, the entire student body seemed to slump over in a communal yawn. Hermione was the one sitting ramrod straight, a look of tightly controlled fury on her face. "Do you guys know what this means?" She hissed at them both. "She's here as a spy for Fudge. The Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts."

Umbridge giggled in a syrupy way, before sitting primly on her chair. Smiling despite the dread looming over the hall.


	3. The Blood Quill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Harry had never backed down from a bully before, and he certainly wasn't going to do so now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Child Abuse, because, y'know, Umbridge.

"Only you would get detention on the first day of class, Harry," Draco scoffed, leaning against a tree as he popped slices of apple into his mouth. Harry watched the movement of his throat as he chewed and swallowed. A little bit of juice collected at the corner of his lips.

Harry's mouth felt dry. "I was only telling the truth." He'd become hyper aware of Draco lately. He couldn't have grown much since Harry had seen him before summer, but it was like he was meeting him all over again. He'd become leaner. Not in a sickly way, but in a loss of baby fat kind of way. His bangs had grown a little longer until they hung just at the tops of his eyelashes, and every time they tickled him, Harry had to resist the urge to brush them away. His fingers were long (pianist's fingers, his aunt would say) and he knew from experience that they scorched his flesh upon contact. If the Draco of last year had looked good in the snow, this Draco's element was fire.

"I find the truth to be overrated." Merlin, he even looked good when he was sneering. The way his nose would get all scrunched up, and his lips would pucker...

Just to keep him talking, he asked, "So what happened with your friends?"

"Oh, I've been ostracized. Apparently, there's a price on my head."

He snapped awake, as if from a nightmare. "What?"

"The Dark Lord doesn't take kindly to traitors, even if they are just scared little children. And despite how stereotypical it is, most pureblood families support him. A lot of Slytherin parents are Death Eaters or supporters, so they've been told not to associate with me."

Harry was on his feet, hand twitching for his wand. No one was near them, but suddenly Harry felt like he had to fight off some unseen evil. "Why are you so blasé about this? Any one of them could turn you in at any time! Bloody hell, you sleep next to those dark snakes."

Draco looked severely unimpressed, which only pissed Harry off more. "Do you really think I'm You-Know-Who's top priority right now? Besides, these are school children we're talking about, not vicious criminals. Do you really think they're going to try an off me? At Hogwarts? Where Dumbledore is?"

He made some very good points, but Harry just could not calm down. The scene the boggart had shown him kept replaying in the back of his mind, and despite his actions before the summer, he couldn't stand the thought of losing Draco. "This is all my fault. If you didn't associate with me, you wouldn't be in trouble like this." Snape was right. He was a curse.

Draco threw his leftover apple core carelessly over his shoulder with a dramatic scoff. "Really, Harry, you are so self-absorbed. The Dark Lord doesn't want me dead just because we're dating. He wants me dead because I refused the honor of being his servant and defected to his enemy. The other Slytherins are just doing what their parents tell them to. They're afraid of what I would do to their reputation."

"So you're friends feel this way too? They're just going to abandon you?" He really thought that they were good friends, even if Harry didn't particularly like them.

"Sticking by my side will only put them in the same boat. Besides, they were kind enough to warn me about it."

"No good, traitorous snakes..."

"Harry, you forget that I'm a 'no good traitorous snake' too."

"You're not-"

"I certainly betrayed my family, didn't I?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't. Draco was right, of course, but it wasn't fair. He did a good thing. He was brave and witty and funny and...

"Now stop growling up there and come down here and kiss me. The one good thing about all this is that there's no longer any reason to hide."

And now he was back to being mesmerized by every little detail of him, even if his fists couldn't seem to relax. He flopped down on the ground beside Draco and kissed him, trying his best to move his lips in a seductive manner.

Draco pulled back with a laugh. "You're still shite at kissing."

Harry growled, face hot. "Fine, then go snog someone else." He made to get up, but Draco pulled him back down.

"I like it. It reminds me that I'm your first kiss." He gave him a quick peck on his left cheek. "And only kiss." He kissed his other cheek.

"I didn't mean what I said. If you kiss someone else, I'm gonna hex you till your impotent."

Draco only smiled before he finally landed on Harry's lips. It started sweet and cool, just the movement of tingling skin on tingling skin, and then that tongue made a resurgence, and Harry couldn't understand why anyone would think to stick their tongue in someone else's mouth, but it sent electricity down his spine, so he didn't stop it. And when he tentatively pressed his tongue back, and Draco made a strangled noise that he liked very much, and yeah, okay, he could see the appeal now.

Somehow he'd ended up on Draco's lap, pushing him back into the tree trunk, fingers curled into his robes. His right hand was right over the Slytherin insignia. The air felt too thin, and maybe that was why his head felt so fuzzy, like it was full of cotton. Their kisses were becoming sloppy and wet, but Harry didn't care. He'd never felt this good before, it was even better than flying, and he wanted to chase this feeling as far as he could go.

Draco's nails were gently running along his scalp. He wanted to purr, they felt so good. It should be a law that Draco Malfoy's fingers must be in Harry Potter's hair at all times. Then those fingers tightened in his hair just enough to pull him back, and Harry whined at the loss of those lips. Their pants mingled in between them, and wow, Draco looked just as amazing as that time they snogged back at Grimmauld Place. His lips were shiny and red, his cheeks flushed, his eyes a molten silver, and his hair in a disarray. Draco should just look like that all the time. Well, maybe not all the time, or Harry wouldn't be able to focus on anything else.

"Merlin, you're so fucking hot," Draco breathed.

The sentence startled him enough that he didn't even react to the first kiss the blond placed on his jaw. No one had ever called him hot before. Him, too-skinny, awkward, orphan Harry. He wanted to say, "no, you're the hot one," but he couldn't seem to get enough air in to speak, and then Draco was mouthing at the spot where jaw met ear, like he was trying to eat Harry. He would let him. Then his tongue laved at the spot, and Harry's voice cracked around Draco's name. Merlin, what an embarrassing sound, and he turned his head away, which only gave Draco better access to that spot, so he kept going, all tongue and teeth and lips. The only words he seemed to be able to form were "oh god" and "Draco," and he really hoped that didn't go to the git's head.

A far off screech of laughter reminded Harry just where they were and he flung himself off as quick as lightning. He looked around, and found that the laughter had come from a gaggle of girls over by the Stone Circle. Merlin's Beard, they had been snogging in public. He knew that they could be open about their relationship now, but not that open. With a blink he realized that the sun had already begun to set. They'd missed dinner. "Bollocks, I have detention."

"Yeah, I know," Draco panted. He'd really have to stop speaking in that husky voice, or Harry would fail all of his classes.

"No, I mean, I have to go. To detention."

"Oh." Draco wiped his face of stray saliva (some of that was probably Harry's) and straightened his robes. "Right. You can't go anywhere looking like that, though."

"Like what?" He quickly smoothed down his hair, a futile exercise, and straightened his tie.

"Like you just had an amazing shag." The hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood up at attention. "That does mean everyone will know you are taken.... Mmm, that's a nice thought."

"Draco, please stop talking or I won't be able to leave."

He laughed, but Harry was serious. He really couldn't skip detention though. That would only get him into worse trouble. He stood up, helping Harry to his feet as well. "Can't believe my competition is Umbridge." He laughed again when Harry stuck out his tongue in disgust. But then he leaned in close, so close he thought Draco was going to kiss him again, but he only whispered, "We'll continue this later," and then sauntered off.

Harry had the strange urge to giggle like a maniac. He kept it bottled up inside all the way to the castle.

 

* * *

 

Umbridge's office was as cloyingly pink and prim as the woman herself. She had spelled the brick walls a fluoride pink and hung them with plates of painted kittens that mewed softly. He never understood why people hung plates on walls or put them on mantles. Plates were meant for eating off of.  
  
He stood in front of a small desk, grimacing at the pink doily underneath a piece of parchment and a crimson quill. So he was to be doing lines. Boring, but after the high from his snogging session had worn off, he found himself rather tired and didn't fancy doing any manual labor that night.

"Professor," he started carefully. "I understand that I have detention this Friday, but I have Quidditch practice then, you see, and I was wondering if I could do that detention another night."

She didn't answer him immediately, her eyes glittering and her smile widening. "Oh no, I'm afraid that won't be possible. I think it will be good for you to miss something you enjoy. This is a punishment, after all."

He knew it was a long stretch but the disappointment still embittered him. At her gesture he took a seat, already grabbing the red quill.

"You'll be doing lines for me today, Mr. Potter," she spoke softly and sweetly. "I want you to write 'I must not tell lies.'"

He grit his teeth, but managed to refrain from saying anything. "How many?"

"Oh, for as long as it takes to _sink in_." She said it like the punchline to some joke. Great, he'd be stuck here all night.

"Professor, you haven't given me any ink."

"Oh, you won't be needing any."

Some type of Self-Inking Quill, he guessed. With a huff, he began writing, and surprisingly enough, the ink flowed onto the page, a dark red color. It looked a little like blood.

With a gasp, he dropped the quill, staring at his hand in horror as the very words he had just written carved themselves into the back of his hand. _I must not tell lies._ His breath hissed out through clenched teeth. The pain was terrible and lingering, but he did not cry or groan in pain. He looked up at Umbridge, the full realization of her punishment dawning on him.

"Yes?" She searched his face. "Did you want to say something?"

"No, nothing."

The smile on her face was almost like relief. "That's right. Because you know, deep down, that you deserve to be punished."

He understood then exactly what kind of person Umbridge was. She was so much worse than the Dursleys, or even Voldemort. They used pain as a way to subjugate, a means to an end. Umbridge took satisfaction in it, pain for her own sick pleasure. Harry had never backed down from a bully before, and he certainly wasn't going to do so now.

Clenching his teeth, he wrote his next line.

 

* * *

 

"Why are you wearing mittens, mate? We're inside." Ron moved his knight to take Harry's pawn.

"My fingers are just really cold today, for some reason." He wanted to only wear the one glove, but that would have been even more suspicious. He couldn't let anyone find out. After some consideration, Harry moved his bishop so that it would be in line to take Ron's queen, with a rook in place should the queen decide to take the bait.

"You're not feeling ill, are you?" Instead, he moved his queen to take another one of Harry's pawns. Wait, a minute...

"Ah, I see what you're trying to do, Ron." He moved a pawn to block the queen's path. "And no, I'm not sick, just cold. Castle's a bit drafty."

"Hey Potter!" The both of them looked up to see Seamus strutting about the common room with a frown on his face. "Way to go and lose us points, yeah? Don't get the rest of us in trouble, just because you want more attention."

He balled his hands into fists, then cringed when it pulled the flesh on the back of his hand. Harry seriously considered throwing his one remaining bishop at Seamus' face. "I'm not lying."

"My mum's been reading the _Prophet_ , it says you and Dumbledore are lying."

"Then you're mum is daft if she believes that gossip rag."

"Hey, don't talk about my mum that way." Seamus looked like he wanted to punch him, and Harry couldn't wait for him to.

He stood up, chess game forgotten. "Then don't talk about Dumbledore that way." Everyone else in the common room was looking at him, and the words on his hand burned. "Look, I'm not lying, and frankly, I don't care if you believe me, that's the truth. So go back to sticking your head in the sand and leave me alone." For some reason, he had thought that maybe his newfound sexual orientation would give him and Seamus some new, deeper aspect to their friendship, but he should have known...

"I believe Harry." Good Ron, precious Ron. He stood up beside Harry, shoulders squared and face fierce. Harry felt a new swell of love for his best friend. "And so does Hermione. So if you got any issues with Harry, you take it up with me, 'right?"

As much as he would love to see Ron fight all of Gryffindor House to protect his honor, he really didn't want to get into another fight. It was Second Year all over again. "Come on Ron, let's just go upstairs. We don't have to listen to these gits."

He made his way towards the stairs that would lead up into the boy's dormitory, but Seamus spoke up again.

"I guess when you're shagging a Slytherin, you start to lie like one too."

Harry turned around and punched him.

 

* * *

 

Professor McGonagall was scary when she was angered, her eyes glinted fiercely, and her pursed lips turned down sharply. She didn't so much raise her voice as make it bigger so that it filled up her entire office and shook Harry to the core.

"I am severely disappointed in you, Mr. Potter. Assaulting a classmate, a fellow Gryffindor, no less! Detention. Every other night for a month."

"But Professor, I already have detention with Professor Umbridge."

"Are you bragging, Mr. Potter?"

"No-"

"Then you will, of course, be serving both. And no Quidditch until your punishment is over."

He hadn't played Quidditch in over a year. "That's not fair! You can't-"

"I assure you, I most certainly can. Such unsportsmanlike behavior is not accepted on my Quidditch team."

Harry's eyes burned, and he wanted to throw that stupid gyroscope thing on her desk at a wall. "Why am I the only one being punished? The things Seamus said-"

"-were cruel, yes, but that doesn't give you the right to assault him. Mr. Seamus will serve his detention tomorrow night for his behavior."

"That's it? Just one night, while I get an entire month!"

"Mr. Potter!" She stood up, and this time she did yell, leaving him cowering in his seat. "You will not take that tone of voice with me. This is not up for debate. Hopefully this time away from the other students will give you the chance to cool your head. If I don't think it is sufficiently cooled by then, I will see fit to give you more detention."  
  
It burned him up inside, but he managed to say "Yes, Professor" in a subdued tone.

She sighed, her fiery wrath diminishing. "I understand what you are going through, Potter, but this is not the way to react."

Harry didn't say anything, just kept his jaw clenched shut.

"Off to bed with you. I do believe you could use a good night's rest."

Harry nodded and left her office. The corridors were empty, as late as it was, and Harry welcomed the quiet. With a flinch, he pulled the- luckily crimson- mitten off of his hand, wincing as the fibers pulled at his scar. Punching Seamus had reopened the wound, and now it bled. He wished he had a first aid kit handy. There was no way he could go to Madam Pomfrey. No one could know, or she'd win.

 

* * *

 

Thanks to having double detention for a week, Harry didn't have any time to spend with Draco. Which only served to irritate him more about this whole situation. He could really go for a good snogging session right now. Draco's kisses always made him feel better.

Luckily, thanks to his punching Seamus, no one bothered him anymore. Sure, now people thought him even more barmy and unhinged than before, but at least they weren't telling him about it. Hermione and Ron were treating him like he were some kind of mental patient, walking around egg shells and just nodding with whatever he said. Their support was nice, but when Hermione flinched when he snapped at her about something, he started avoiding them too.

Luckily, his new detentions were with the newly returned Hagrid from his secret Order mission. Unfortunately, that meant cleaning out stables and feeding the Blast-Ended Skrewts. But Hagrid seemed to sense that he didn't want to chat, and so they worked in silence. He wouldn't exactly call the air fresh, but it felt good to be out of the castle and feel the wind on his face. The clouds, not heavy with rain but still thick, blocked the sun and drifted ever so slowly along. Their lazy pace was comforting, and Harry found himself smiling, even as he avoided the vicious pecking of Hagrid's chickens.

"Oi, Harry, wha' happened to yer hand?" Ok, maybe Hagrid talked a little. He pointed at the crudely wrapped bandages on his right hand. Dobby had provided them and done an even worse job of wrapping his hand than Harry had.

"Oh, uh, Fanged Geranium got me, uh, in Herbology class."

"Aye, tha' uh do it. Nasty little plants."

Harry upended the bucket of chicken feed, wondering why he felt just a little disappointed.

 

* * *

 

The rain drove the students inside, and while normally, Harry loved the soothing hum of the rain, he cursed it now. There were much fewer hiding spots inside the castle than out. Kissing in the rain was terrible, no matter what cinema portrayed. They sat in the clock tower, the ticking just barely audible over the thunder. It may have been drafty, but at least it gave some illusion to privacy.

As soon as they set their bags down, Harry pulled Draco by his collar until their lips crashed together. It was messy and rough, but he couldn't get enough of it.

"Woah, down boy," Draco pushed him away with a laugh. "Don't you want to say hello first?"  
  
"I am saying hello," Harry growled, and went in for more kisses.

He only got one in before Draco pulled back again. "I feel like I've unleashed a beast."

"Less talking, more snogging."

One kiss. Another. And then he was being pushed back again. "Not that I don't love this more proactive Harry, but I did have some things I wanted to talk with you about first."

Harry didn't want to talk. He didn't want to think. He just wanted to do the one thing that made him happy anymore. "Don't you like snogging?"

"I'm beginning to think you only want me for my body." Draco shot him a wry grin.

"Not your whole body, just your lips," Harry parroted back a memory.

"If you settle down and talk with me, I'll show you what I can do with more than just my lips."

Harry instantly sat down on a nearby crate. Yes, that sounded like a lovely bargain.

Draco laughed behind his smile, and he pulled up another wooden box beside his. They were rather heavy. He wondered what they were filled with. "You seem rather frustrated lately, in every sense of the word."  
  
"You would be too if everyone thought you were a crackpot."

"Is that why you got yourself more detention?"

Harry shifted so his bandaged hand was hidden in his voluminous sleeve and out of sight. "You heard about that, huh?"

"Yes, Granger was kind enough to inform me. I had been wondering why I could never seem to find you."

"You've been talking with Hermione?"

"We take the same electives."

"You two are getting on rather well, lately."

"Don't change the subject. What's going on with you? I know you like to break the rules, but you're well on your way to becoming a delinquent."

"Is that what this is? Are you going to break up with me because I'm too much of a bad boy?"

Draco looked completely bewildered. "What? No, where did you even get that idea?"

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I don't know-"

"What happened to your hand?"

He froze for a second before whipping his hand behind himself. "Nothing, er, mishap with a chicken during my detentions with Hagrid."

"Doesn't that oaf know any proper first aid? It looks like it was bandaged by a monkey. Here, let me see it."

"No, no, it's fine, it's nearly healed already."

"Come on, I know a good spell." Draco leaned forward, reaching for his hand.

He jumped back, holding his hand up and away. He knew the jig was up as soon as Draco's easygoing mien changed into a shrewd glare.

"Harry James Potter, what are you hiding from me?"

"Nothing."

"I will find out, so just show me now."

"No."

Now he looked just as scary as McGonagall did that night. "Show me, or I'll Body-Bind you and then find out."

He had no doubt he'd do it too. Already his hand was twitching toward his wand. It really wasn't worth dueling over, even if he felt a little sick. Slowly, he started to unwind the bandages, wincing when they tugged at his wound. His last detention had just been last night, so it was still fresh. Even over the rain and the ticking, he could hear that sharp gasp.

Draco cradled his hand gently, eyes tracing the letters on his hand. "Who's done this to you?"

"Umbridge. It was part of my detention."

"Why didn't you tell anybody? Why didn't you go to Dumbledore? She can't do this. It's abuse!"

"I know full well what abuse is." He tried to snatch his hand back, but as soon as his muscles bunched to do so, Draco gripped his fingers tightly.

"And what has keeping quiet done? You should have at least gone to Madam Pomfrey. This could get infected."

"She would have told."

"Dammit, Harry." Draco's face was scrunched, as if he were the one with the wound. "Bloody, stubborn, little..." He did reach for his wand, but pointed it at Harry's hand. _"Episkey."_ The skin over the wound closed up, leaving harsh pink letters. "It's not fully healed it, and it might scar, but at least you're not bleeding everywhere anymore."

Harry stared at him in wonder. "That was amazing. Where did you learn that?"

Draco flushed lightly under the praise. He finally let Harry's hand go, and he missed the touch already. "I've been studying healing spells. Our Career Advice sessions are this year, and I think I want to be a Healer."

"That's surprising. I always figured you'd go into politics or own a bunch of companies or something. Whatever it is filthy rich people do."  
  
"I don't think I count as rich anymore."

Oh. Right. "Then why Healer?"

"Last year, at the end of the Triwizard Tournament, all I could do was sit and watch you suffer. I hated how useless I felt. And I like fixing things."

"You seem rather passionate about it."

Draco smiled shyly. "I am, a little. I'm learning to make new choices for myself. It's a little scary, not having my parents to fall back on when I have to make decisions. But..." He looked him in the eyes. "You showed me the joy in freedom, the freedom to choose. And I like this choice because it's all mine. My parents would hate it." He beamed.

"I wish I had your ambition." Maybe Draco would let him borrow some of that passion, since he seemed to have it in spades.

"Why? What do you want to become?"

He shrugged. "I thought I wanted to be an Auror, but lately I just don't know. I feel like I only wanted that because it was expected of me to want it. It makes sense, given my life. It's a little hard to think of life after Voldemort."

"He will be defeated. I wouldn't have defected if I didn't think it was possible."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I've beaten him so many times before now. It's just...I get this feeling I won't survive defeating him."  
  
Suddenly, he found both of his hands clasped in front of him, Draco staring at him intensely. "Don't talk like that. You will survive."

"I know, sorry, it was just a feeling." They didn't speak on it any more, and Draco made good on his promise.


	4. The Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco's cheeks flushed and he turned away from Harry's stare. "Sorry, that was a mood killer."
> 
> "No, no, I was just surprised you wanted to tell me now." Harry burned with curiosity too strong to let Draco back down now. "Please."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs playing on the radio are "Fooled Around and Fell In Love" by Elvin Bishop ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DyMMEmwFQUE ) and "The Air That I Breathe" by The Hollies ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HydvceA1PAI ). They are great songs to snog to, if anyone's interested.

Harry's head had been so full of his mysterious dreams and Sirius' Fire-Call that he failed to notice something wrong going on with Draco. Really, it should have rung some alarms in his head that nothing bad had happened yet. He had been so terrified last year of exposing their relationship. They didn't exactly hold hands in the hallways, but they were certainly much less careful.

He had been getting looks and whispers behind scandalized hands, but he had just assumed that was business as usual, people thinking he was insane. It wasn't until someone he didn't recognize, and it was always someone who didn't even know him, shouted "Whore!" before dashing off with their giggling friends. It had been so unexpected, the insult didn't even fit his supposed crime, that he didn't turn around quick enough to see which one of them had yelled it.

When he made his way into the Transfiguration Courtyard -why was it always there?- he saw a group of students standing around in a circle. Uh-oh. That was never good.

"Look on, everybody, at the Whore of Gryffindor!" He recognized that voice. Pansy Parkinson had a distinctive nasally whine. What poor Gryffindor First Year was she picking on now. He pushed through the crowd, about ready to use a spell to push them all out of his way, when he finally made it inside. His heart stopped.

Draco stood as still as a statue in the center, his head bowed, and his hands balled up into fists. Unmistakably written on the front of his school robes, as if in blood, was the word WHORE.

Pansy noticed him. "Ah, and here we have the Whore of Slytherin. Tell me, will you let any Slytherin bugger you, or just traitors?"

The circle laughed, but it sounded muted to Harry's ears. Draco looked up at him, and that's when he saw TRAITOR sprawled across his forehead in the same blood colored substance. Blood Traitor. He was by Draco's side in a heartbeat, checking him over for any injuries or other nasty pranks. He saw now why Draco had hung his head. Tears had bunched up at the edges of his eyes. He didn't want to let anyone else see.

Harry whirled around in a rage. "What is the meaning of this?"

Pansy sneered, but shouted over his shoulder. "What? Need your boyfriend to fight your battles for you? Oh, how the mighty have fallen."

There were a couple of cheers at that, and Harry glared in their general direction. The crowd didn't consist of only Slytherins. Students from all houses had come to this coliseum to watch their blood sport.

Never had Harry wanted to hurt anyone so much. Well, maybe Pettigrew. He had never cared for banter, so instead, he pulled his wand on her and shouted, _"Slugulus Eructo!"_ It hit Parkinson square in the chest, knocking her back a bit. She opened her mouth to no doubt curse him, but a slug crawled out instead. "There, now they match your words."

The circle laughed again, an unloyal, bloodthirsty mob. He glared at each of them. _"Flipendo Maxima."_ As if a large blast had occurred where Harry stood, everyone was thrown back, many of them landing on top of each other painfully. He didn't care. He just had to get Draco out of there. He didn't know how to rid him of those vile words, but he knew someone who might. He guided Draco away with a hand on his shoulder. The boy let himself be dragged off, head still slumped down. If only he had his Invisibility Cloak on him, Draco wouldn't have to suffer any more stares. All he could do now was a simple Notice-Me-Not Charm.

They arrived in Gryffindor tower, Draco starting when he noticed the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Harry, what are you-"

"It's fine."

When they entered the common room, he found Hermione arguing with Fred and George while Ginny watched with ill contained mirth. They all fell silent when they noticed their newcomers. Ginny stood up at the sight of Draco, eyes wide, but face blank. "Hermione, I need your help."

She nodded, dropping the posters she had been holding to rush to Draco's side. She gave him a clinical once-over, pulling her wand out. Muttering under her breath, she touched her wand on his forehead and chest, the words disappearing. In a voice so soft and gentle, Harry couldn't believe that she was aiming it at Draco, she said, "It was Pansy again, wasn't it?"

"What do you mean 'again'?" Harry thought he just might use another _Flipendo._

Hermione gave him an apologetic look. "He made me swear not to tell you."

"What else have the two of you been talking about behind my back?" He knew he shouldn't be feeling so angry at his friends, after all, Draco had just been through an ordeal, and Hermione helped him, but the thought of them acting all cozy together, probably laughing at him...

Over her shoulder, he could see Fred and George nudging Ginny Weasley up the stairs and to their dormitories, but he had little thought to spare for them.

"What are you getting all worked up for?" Draco grumbled. His eyes were still red-rimmed.

"Because all this time you've been hurting and I did nothing." Draco was right. He did have his head shoved up his own arse.

"You didn't know. I didn't let you know."

"Still, you're my boyfriend, I should have noticed."

"The same way I should have noticed this?" He held up his hand with the scar.

Hermione gasped at the sight of it. "Harry-"

"That's different."

"Is it?"

Harry retracted his hand. "You have to go to Dumbledore about this. You can't be expected to sleep next to people who want to jinx you. Maybe he can give you some private rooms or re-Sort you-"

"That's rich, coming from you."

He could see the hypocrisy in his words, but Draco just didn't understand. His tormentor was one person whom he could avoid if he would just keep his mouth shut. And Dumbledore obviously didn't care for him anymore. He even avoided him at school.

"Look, Harry, your concern is appreciated, but if I back down now, I'll only be running away. They'll have beaten me."

The words were so familiar. How many times had he said much the same thing to himself? "Then at least tell Snape. He's your Head of House. He should be notified about this."

Draco paled. "That is the absolute last person we should tell."

"If you don't tell him, then I will. It's up to you if you want to come along."

"You're not being fair, Harry-"

"I know." And really he did. "But I care for you too much to just sit back and watch you suffer."

So many different emotions flashed across his face, before he finally relented.

Something in Harry relaxed. Strange, how clear his head felt now that he had something to focus on besides himself. _"Don't look at your feet. Focus on me."_ He turned to his friend, who had been watching their argument warily. "I'm sorry about snapping at you, Hermione. You didn't deserve it."

She smiled at him. "Harry Potter, how you have grown. I do think Draco has been a surprisingly good influence on you."

"Oh, shut it." "Oh, shut it."  
  
He and Draco turned to each other in surprise when they heard the echo of their words. And for the first time all day, Draco smiled.

The trip down to the dungeons was gratefully uneventful. Of course, now he knew that the looks they were getting were as much for their unlikely union as for the _Daily Prophet's_ accusations. He resisted the urge to defiantly snog Draco in the middle of the hall, just to see their reaction.

Luckily, Snape was in his office instead of looming over some poor First Years or whatever it was the greasy bat did in his spare time. At their knock, he welcomed them in with a curiously raised brow.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy. To what do I owe this pleasure?" The sarcasm was so thick, Harry could cut it with a knife and throw it into a cauldron.

He tried not to lower himself to his level. "Are you aware your students have been torturing Draco?"

Beside him, Draco hissed. "They're not 'torturing' me, Harry, you melodramatic-"

"Speak plainly, Potter."

"Draco is being bullied by the rest of Slytherin House, and I want you to stop it."

Snape stood up in a snap. "I do not take orders from you, Mr. Potter." Then he turned his gaze to Draco, his features softening slightly. "Is this true, Malfoy?"

Draco shifted. "It's not as bad as he puts it."

Snape looked like he believed him about as far as he could throw him. "I do not tolerate bullying in my House, Mr. Malfoy." Harry wanted to snort at that. How many times had he looked the other way when Draco and his cronies were picking on others? "I will severely punish any who did. You will come to me about any incidents in the future."

"I'm no narc," Draco protested.

Snape continued as if he had never spoken. "If you feel unsafe in your dormitory, I can speak with the headmaster about arranging more private dwellings..."

"No, absolutely not," Draco protested vehemently. "That will only make it worse."

Snape nodded, though Harry disagreed. He'd rather Draco be safe. His gaze fell on Harry next, searching for something, or more like he were appraising an item in a store. "Thank you, Mr. Potter, for bringing this matter to my attention."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined Snape might thank him. He was so stunned, he could only nod back dumbly.

 

* * *

 

'I love magic,' Harry thought, staring at the flames in the fireplace of the Shrieking Shack. They had set up a Vanishing portal in the chimney so that no smoke escaped to the outside. Wouldn't do for the haunted house to show signs of life. Good thing too, because Harry didn't think Warming Charms would hold up to the deep chill in the house.

They had collected all sorts of cushions and blankets that they left in their secret place for whenever they wanted some time alone. Ron called it their "love nest," though Harry suspected only to tease him. He still couldn't get over how amazingly supportive his friends were about all of this.

Currently, Harry was reclining on a stack of crimson cushions. A small portable radio softly played a muted rock song, background noise for the wet sounds their mouths made. Draco kneeled over him, cradling Harry's face in his hands. His mind flitted back and forth between the feel of his lips and the small caresses Draco's thumbs made on his cheeks. Harry's hands were on his hips, his back, wherever he could touch. He loved the feel of that calescent flesh.

"Harry..." Draco breathed the name like a prayer, no real air behind the sound. His hands drifted down to his chest, fingers splayed to cover the most area. He moved his exploration slowly away from Harry's lips to his jaw, his nose brushing his ear lobe, and the tips of his bangs tickling his cheek. Harry's right hand drifted up to play with the small hairs on the back of Draco's neck, while his left hand clawed into his back. It must not have hurt, because Draco didn't even flinch.

"What's with - _ahh_ \- your obsession with my neck? Are you a vampire?"

"It feels good, doesn't it?"

Harry bit his lip when he felt teeth dragging along his skin. Why was his neck so sensitive? "Yeah..."

Draco pulled back to hit him with a smug grin. "Then what are you complaining for?"  
  
"I'm not complaining, really. It's just... is this what we're supposed to do? Are we doing this right?" Harry had never seen more than a chaste peck between two people, and whenever the boys in the dorm got into their dirty talk, they always spoke in euphemisms, so Harry wasn't quite sure on the mechanics of things.

"Who cares? Just do what feels good." That sounded like a dangerous philosophy, but he couldn't find any fault in it at that moment. Still, he didn't want to look like a dumb virgin in front of Draco, even if that's what both of them were. He seemed to like taking charge, guiding their explorations, and Harry was perfectly happy to let him do so.

Draco licked his adam's apple, and Harry hissed, his entire body tensing. Of course, that meant his nails dug deep into Draco's back, pushing him down further into Harry. Draco hissed too, and then that hiss turned into a choked gasp when Harry's pushing drove his hips down into the other's. They had never gone lower than the collar bone (or back, in Harry's case) and sweet Merlin, why hadn't they earlier? Even through the thick cloth of their trousers, that felt amazing.

"Harry," Draco looked completely wrecked above him, and Harry wished he had a pensieve of his own to store this memory for lonely nights. Every muscle in his body was completely rigid, leaving him as still as a mountain, he rested his forehead against Harry's, noses bumping and lips torturously just shy of touching. Those eyes were so close, Harry could see the different shades of grey flecked in his irises. He wondered if those colors existed in nature, or if they were purely Draco's. "Harry, do you want to go further than snogging?"

"What do you mean?" Hadn't they already done more than just snog, touching each other as they did.

"Please tell me you know what wanking is."

Even during a hot and heavy snogging session, Draco had to be a git. "Of course I do. I'm a guy, after all."

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed."

"Smarmy bastard. I could just leave you like this, you know."

"Could you?" Then he lowered his body on top of his so that from groin to chest they were touching. Harry's legs clenched around Draco's hips, electricity shooting from his cock and into his brain.

"D-Dra...Mmm..."

A light chuckle. "I'll take that as a yes."

Harry nodded shortly, not wanting to bump Draco's head. "Yes, yes, more of that, please."

"As you wish." Then slowly, almost hesitantly, he shifted his hips against Harry's and some strange noise escaped Harry's throat, not unlike the last death throes of a ferret. If he had any mind left to spare, he might have been horribly embarrassed by the downright girly noise he had made. Luckily, his mind had devolved to only feeling.

Draco bit his lip so hard a tiny well of blood pooled around a tooth. As stupid as Harry felt right then, he leaned up to lick it away, the metallic blood tickling his taste buds. With a groan, Draco followed his tongue with his own, hungrily snogging him.

Merlin, they really shouldn't have lit that fire. It was way too hot in there. He could feel sweat beading along his brow and pooling at the back of his neck. "Draco...hot..."

He seemed to have understood, for he pulled back to tug Harry's shirt and jumper over his head in one go. They got caught on his glasses, pulling them up into his hairline. Draco continued pulling his shirt up his arms, but then stopped at his wrists, so that his hands were tangled up above his head. Why did he stop? Harry felt so exposed like this, like a trussed up hog. He could easily escape, if he wanted to, but his limbs felt so weak they were shaking.

"Merlin... Look at you." Harry would do anything to keep Draco looking at him like that forever, as if he were a pile of chocolates, or some rare and beautiful creature, like a unicorn or something. His mind was too fuzzy to think of a proper simile. "Can I...?"

"Yes, yes..." He could do whatever he wanted, just so long as he did something.

He released Harry's hands to drag them over the bare skin of his chest. It tickled, and yet it melted him all at the same time. He managed to wriggle his hands free of his clothes so that he could put his glasses back in place. Draco's fingers mapped every bump and curve of his chest. Some parts left him groaning, and others, especially near his armpits, left him giggling. When fingers flicked at his left nipple, he let out a shrill noise and swatted Draco on the shoulder. "I'm not a girl."

"Yes, that is rather the point." Stupid, arrogant little--

He gasped, his back arching just a little. Those pale fingers had fondled that nipple again. Harry never knew they could feel like that when they were touched by another person.

"We're doing what feels good, remember? Stop thinking so much."

He could barely think as it was, thank you very much. He wasn't the one blabbing on. He twitched, his nerves dancing in the flames of Draco's touch. Somehow, he found enough brain power to bring his hands down to tug the hem of the other boy's shirt out of the waistband of his trousers. "You too...feel good..."

Draco nodded, letting Harry pull his shirt up and over his head, quickly throwing it somewhere out of sight. Harry's greedy fingers instantly set upon his flesh, glorying in every single bump of gooseflesh that rose under his fingertips. Draco squirmed above him, alternating between panting heavily with his mouth hanging open, and biting his lip to keep his voice prisoner. Harry's nostrils flared, soaking up the scent of skin and sweat and power. To see perfectly composed Draco Malfoy falling apart under (or well, above) his hands was a rush unlike any other. Harry had never been harder in his life.

"Harry, can't wait..." His hands knocked Harry's out of the way on their journey down and out of Harry's periphery. He heard the distinctive sound of a zipper and then hot hands were pulling his cock out.

Harry choked on air, in awe of this amazing first experience. No one else had ever touched him there before. It felt so strange, so different from his own touch, so much better. Then he heard another zip, and a heavy weight lay on it. He propped himself up on his elbows to get a good look. Draco had freed his prick as well, resting it on top of Harry's. They were about the same size, as far as he could tell from this angle, though Draco's head was a dark and angry purple. God, he was about to burst at any minute, wasn't he?

Then Draco wrapped his hand around both of their cocks and started pumping. If he had thought it felt good when both of them had still been in their trousers, then this felt so good it bordered on painful. Draco paused for a moment to spit into his hand- 'Gross' -and then went back to pumping them. Ok, that felt way better, the slide of his hand smooth, and just rough enough to lightly tug his skin down with each stroke.

Harry's hips moved of their own accord, thrusting up against Draco's, and he could feel Draco thrusting down against him. He flopped his head back down on the cushions and arched his back, which gave a whole new angle to their manic thrusting. Harry bit his fist, both to keep those shamefully high-pitched moans from escaping as well as to keep from coming so embarrassingly early. They hadn't even done this a minute yet, and he was already about to blow. His other hand dug painfully hard into the arm that was holding Draco up above him. He knew they would leave marks, and felt a thrill at the thought of some piece of him following Draco everywhere. His heart beat to the tune of his name, a quick rhythm of Dra-co, Dra-co, Dra-co.

Then Draco made a noise as if he were being strangled and spilled over his own hand and onto Harry's abdomen. His mouth hung open in a silent scream, his eyes blown wide, solid black now, and his back curved like a bow. All Harry had to do was realize that the hot liquid on him was Draco's spunk and he came. It was the most intense and pleasurable orgasm Harry had ever experienced. Far better than any wet dream or masturbation session. He closed his eyes, feeling hot tears trail down his cheek, every muscle spasming before going completely limp.  
  
Draco slumped on top of him, panting like a dog. With a groan, Harry tried to push him off, but he could barely lift his own arms right now, let alone Draco. "Mmf, heavy..."

Draco grumbled an apology before rolling off of him. His chest heaved up and down like he were running, and Harry found he could agree with that sentiment. When he had recuperated enough energy, he turned himself onto his side so that he could watch his boyfriend.

The blond didn't turn his body over, just his head. His smile was lazy and sated. It was a good look on him. "Good, yeah?"

"More than good. Brilliant." Honestly, if they could just do that for the rest of the school year, Harry would be too blitzed out to lose his temper anymore. He had honestly never felt more at peace. With a scrunched nose at the mess on his stomach, he tucked himself back into his pants, not bothering to zip his trousers back up.

"I agree." He really looked like he were high, with his heavy eyelids and dopey grins. Harry wondered if he looked much worse. The air smelt of sex. "Oh, here." Draco fumbled for his wand for a minute, before he waved it at Harry, magically cleaning their mess from his skin.

"Thanks." He loved magic.

"My mother always taught me to clean up after my messes."

Harry snorted, but he was so tired, it came out as more of a huff. "Don't you have house-elves to do that for you?"

"Semantics."

After a while, their breath settled and with it the heat. A chill fell upon him, and he shivered. Noticing, Draco tugged him down until they were snuggling and then fumbled around to throw one of the blankets over the both of them. It might have been girly to cuddle but he was so pleasingly warm, and now his body could feel Draco's breath firsthand. His hand drifted slowly down Draco's sternum, the urgency from before gone, leaving only a curious touch. His eyes traced where his fingers could not. Draco really was handsome, wasn't he? Distantly, the radio shifted into a new song, a chorus of male voices singing along with a slow guitar. It lulled him.

Just as Harry thought he might fall asleep, Draco spoke, the words as soft as a caress. "Do you want to know why I left?"

His hand stilled on Draco's pec. He propped himself up so that he could look at him in surprise.

Draco's cheeks flushed and he turned away from Harry's stare. "Sorry, that was a mood killer."

"No, no, I was just surprised you wanted to tell me now." Harry burned with curiosity too strong to let Draco back down now. "Please."

He nodded, the flush falling away into a neutral mask. "My father _Crucioed_ my mother."

Harry was so shocked he didn't even gasp, his silence as loud as a shout.

"It was under the Dark Lord's orders, of course. He had wanted me to take the Mark early, as... as punishment for my father not being loyal enough to search for him. My mother tried to dissuade him, and so he ordered my father to use the Cruciatus Curse on her."

Harry didn't know much about Narcissa Malfoy or how Draco's parents felt about each other, but he couldn't imagine a married couple, even Lucius, torturing each other like that.

"What's worse is that she doesn't even blame him. She said it was her fault for speaking out of turn..." Draco turned his face away from him. "I tried to take her with me, but she refused. She said that someone had to stay by Father's side." Then he turned back to face Harry, the mask broken and all his unseemly emotions spilled out. Harry could read fear, so much fear, hurt, and anger. "The Dark Lord stayed at our house for a week. Every minute I thought I might die. He... he made me watch." Just what Draco had to watch, he never explained, but Harry thought it for the best neither of them voiced it.

"My father always told me to be proud to be a Malfoy. That we were superior to others, but there was no pride under the Dark Lord. We were like prisoners in our own home." He looked directly into Harry's eyes, pleading. "I couldn't stand it. I hopped on a broom and flew to Uncle Severus' place. I didn't know where else to go. He took me to the Order, told me that I could never return home now. If I did, then the Dark Lord would either kill me, or my parents, or all of us. He tortures his followers just as much as he tortures Muggleborns."

Harry clasped onto his shoulder. "You were so brave."

"I don't want to be brave. I want my family back." Tears spilled out of the corners of his eyes, traveling over the ridge of his nose. He quickly wiped them away. "I thought a world without muggles, with purity... I don't want it if this is what it takes to get there."

Draco looked so small then. And it hit Harry that he was only fifteen, still a kid. It was a dumb thing to just realize, but he was still floored by it. So he scooted forward and brought Draco's head to his chest, cradling it in his arms, and petting those blond locks, just as he had always wished someone would do for him. He placed a kiss on that widow's peak, and whispered into his hair, "Thank you for telling me."

Arms wrapped around Harry's waist, and the head nuzzled into him. This was a moment of weakness for Draco, and Harry would treasure it appropriately. Eventually, they did fall asleep, still tangled around each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love rebel!Draco, even if he doesn't like it.


	5. The D.A.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a small family, Harry had made, without the ties of blood to hold it together, but he wouldn't trade those three for all the galleons in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The most magical number isn't 7, it's actually 69.

Harry had canceled his subscription to the _Daily Prophet_ , so he didn't learn about the news until Parvati told him about it during Divination class. Even after all of Voldemort's supporters had broken out of Azkaban, Fudge still refused to believe that the Dark Lord had returned, blaming it on Sirius. He broke his quill when he heard that tidbit. Sirius already suffered enough, how dare Fudge keep using him as a scapegoat. It had been the front page story for a week.

Bellatrix Lestrange screamed from behind bars on the front page of the newspaper Seamus held rolled up in his hands. He stood awkwardly in front of him, Dean pushing him encouragingly behind him. "Hey, uh, Harry... I believe you."  
  
Harry raised his eyebrow, looking up from his Charms homework. "Do you now?"

His lips thinned. "I suppose I deserve that." He held the newspaper up. "Even my mum can't deny this is all too fishy."

"Bully for your mother." Did he want some kind of reward for not acting like an arsehole?

"Harry, you bastard, I'm trying to apologize to you."

"Maybe you should start with 'I'm sorry' instead."

Seamus threw the newspaper up into the air with a growl. It landed with its pages splayed open. That old picture of a grief-stricken and unhinged Sirius Black yelled at him silently. "You're a completely unreasonable bastard, you know that? I still owe you a right hook."

Harry stood up. "Bring it, Finnegan."

Behind him, Dean fretted. "Seamus, don't-"

Seamus ignored him, put his fists up. But instead of the right hook, he made a hesitant slap to Harry's face that he easily blocked. Harry stood tense, his hands up to defend himself. Then Seamus made another go for his left, a pansy swat with no real force behind it, and Harry smacked it away. Then he gave Seamus' chest a little shove, and Seamus swatted at his hand, and next thing Harry knew, they were waving their hands in front of each other like dogs paddling in a pool, the loud sounds of skin slapping against skin the only noise in the common room. The both of them dissolved into giggles.

"Bloody hell, Harry, if you fight like that, we're all in trouble." Seamus stepped back, hands on his hips.

Harry's chest heaved with laughter. "You're just now figuring that out?"

Dean's head swivelled between the two of them with disbelieving looks that bordered on fond. "You two are complete nutters. Can't you just make up like normal folk?"

"Nothin' normal about this git," Seamus thumbed at him good-naturedly.

"That's true." Harry shrugged, slapping a hand on Seamus' back. Honestly, he was just so relieved to not be fighting with the boy anymore. Pride wasn't worth the awkwardness in the dorm.

Dean shook his head with a smile, before he turned to Harry seriously. "Hey, Harry, I heard about what you and Malfoy are going through, and I just want you to know that we've got your back. And Malfoy's."

Seamus nodded. "Any enemy of Slytherin, even if its another Slytherin, is alright in my book."

Harry's throat felt tight. "You guys really mean that?"

"Yeah," Dean's eyes were soft and Harry thought for a horrifying moment that they all just might hug. "It's nice to finally have another non-hetero couple in Gryffindor. Well, even if half of you isn't in our House."

Harry smiled. Honestly, he was happy to have someone else who might understand his relationship with Draco too. They were the only gay couple he knew about, and as mortifying as talking about any of that stuff might be, it was nice to know he at least had the option if he ever had questions. "Hey, look, I'm sorry about the things I said about your mum..."

Seamus just waved his hand. "Nah, don't be. She's a bit gullible anyways."

And then when Ron and Neville entered the common room, they all invested in a game of exploding snap, and Harry thought that things might just start looking up.

 

* * *

 

All of the students sat horrified in front of the Great Hall, staring in horror as the High Inquisitor announced a new Educational Decree. Any underage students caught performing salacious and lewd acts with each other were to receive detention and a letter written to their parents.

"Bloody hell," George gaped beside him. "First she attacks our business, and now she's cockblocking us."

"The woman is pure evil," Fred agreed.

Hermione stepped up, her eyes glimmering fiercely. "She's utterly despicable."

The twins blinked at her. "What?" They spoke simultaneously. "But you disapprove of our enterprise." "And you're a prude."

She flushed hotly. "I am not a prude! And I don't disapprove of your business, just the testing of your products on the First Years. And she's completely botching our curriculum, and there's no way we're going to be able to pass our O.W.L.s. We have to do something."

Of course she was worried about their schoolwork. Still, she made a good point. Umbridge taught from an outdated, theory-only method. None of them would be able to pass their practicals at this rate. But what could they do about it?

 

* * *

 

The Hallowe'en Feast never failed to impress. The enchanted ceiling depicted an appropriately spooky night sky, complete with yellow moon and lightning. The ghosts really got into the spirit of things. All manner of sweets and pumpkin flavored dishes covered up every single inch of the tables so that not even a sliver of wood could be seen. Hagrid had grown the pumpkins himself, and if anyone should be unfortunate as to ask him about them, they would be subjected to a rather long speech about his prizewinning pumpkin that was nearly as tall as he was. Harry liked to imagine it hollowed out to make a little home for Fang. Hagrid had been offended at the suggestion. Not his prizewinner, no.

With as many treats as had been provided at the feast, the entire day had been littered with tricks. Pranks happened left and right, students walking around with antlers or tusks for teeth. Peeves had really come alive, in a manner of speaking, these past couple of days. Despite Umbridge's ban on Weasley goods, they made themselves known everywhere. (George said that she had only created a lucrative black market, which increased demand, now that they were forbidden.) Even Ginny had gotten into the season and hit Parkinson with a Bat-Bogey Hex. Although she neither confirmed nor denied it, Harry liked to think she had done it as revenge for Draco. It was strange how fond the Weasleys had all become of him, considering their family rivalry.

He twirled a rainbow colored lolly in between his fingers with no intention of eating it. His gaze drifted away from the bats circling around the floating jack-o'-lanterns to the staff table. They had all dressed up for the occasion. Dumbledore wore black robes with glittering crescent moons dotted all over them. McGonagall had on crimson robes where black cats bounced all over, often tucking themselves into creases and folds. Flitwick wore garishly orange robes with a collar that pulsated light like some deep sea creature. Snape was nowhere to be seen.

"You don't seem particularly festive today, Harry," Draco said after daintily slurping some pumpkin soup. He had taken to sitting at the Gryffindor table after his food had been spiked with a nasty potion that caused excessive flatulence. The Gryffindors had taken a while to warm up to him, but they never poisoned his food.

"Not much reason to celebrate today." He picked up a toasted pumpkin seed, before lazily flicking it into the air. It landed in some Hufflepuff girl's hair, so he quickly turned to face Draco, hoping no one had noticed.

Draco pulled his eyebrows together in confusion before understanding dawned on his face. "Oh. Right. Do you, uh, want to go somewhere else then?"

Harry shook his head. "I need the distraction." His first year had been the worst. Everything seemed to be a reminder of what had been taken from him. Of course, that had been the day that Hermione had really become their friend. Maybe if he sent a mountain troll loose in the Slytherin Dungeons, they would all become friends too.

Draco leaned closer and whispered, "I can think of a great way to distract you." His tone left little confusion as to what he meant.

"Thanks, but I'm not really in the mood for that tonight."

Draco nodded, face still full of cheer. "We could go for a fly."

"It's raining outside."

"If I recall, you once played during a thunderstorm surrounded by Dementors."

"Then you should recall the part where I fainted."

Draco rolled his eyes as if Harry were being some kind of drama queen. "Yes, but that wasn't because of the rain. Come on, Weasley's already agreed to round up his lot so we can have a little practice match. Hermione even agreed to referee."

From his other side, Hermione leaned over to say, "And to be the medic, as I'm sure you meatheads will need it. Such a barbaric sport... Who would let children around a bludger?"

Harry just grinned.

 

* * *

 

Not for the last time, Harry wondered what he had gotten himself into. Although, most of the blame could be foisted onto Hermione for convincing him to start this little club. The Hog's Head wouldn't have been his first choice of secret meeting place. It had none of the cheer and noise of the Three Broomsticks, with only a grumpy looking old man with long grey hair and beard eyeing them from behind the bar, and a couple of ratty looking patrons who huddled over their butterbeers. A group of about twenty kids kind of stood out. Especially when Hermione said Voldemort's name and they all started shrieking. Really, it was just a name.

"Where's your proof that You-Know-Who is back?" A Hufflepuff named Zacharias Smith said rather rudely. He looked raring for a fight, and part of Harry wanted to give him one.

"Look," Hermione said with a heavy sigh, "That's really not what this meeting is supposed to be about -"

"It's okay, Hermione." Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "I saw him. Dumbledore told everyone last year what happened. If you don't believe me, then I'm not going to waste my time trying to convince you."

Zacharias frowned. "He didn't give us any details..."

"If you came here just to learn what it was like to watch Voldemort murder Cedric Diggory, then you can just clear out." That was it. He was going to call this whole stupid idea off. All these people wanted was to grill him about-

"Hey Harry," Draco, who had been sitting on top of a nearby table like it was a throne, leapt off to saunter up to him with a devious look on his face that he instantly didn't like, "Isn't it true that you slayed a basilisk with the sword of Godric Gryffindor from Dumbledore's office in your second year?"

Harry flushed at all of the astounded gasps he received. He regretted ever telling him that story. "Well, yeah, I did."

"It's true," Ginny stood up. "I was there. He saved me."

"And in our first year," Neville piped up helpfully, "he saved the Philosopher's Stone from You-Know-Who."

"That's not to mention," Cho Chang spoke softly, but everyone could still hear her in their shocked awe, "surviving all the tasks from the Triwizard Tournament last year."

Harry's face felt hot under all of that praise. He glared to his left at Draco who only smiled back innocently. He had started all of this. "Look...I had a lot of help with that stuff...and most of it was just luck."

"Not with that dragon, you didn't," Draco said smugly, as if he were singing his own praises.

"That was some proper flying there," Michael Corner agreed enthusiastically.

He warred between feeling embarrassed at all of the attention and pleased with the admiration, and it left him with a bit of a queasy stomach. He was so grateful for Hermione getting them back on track that he just might forgive her for this whole idea in the first place. They argued back and forth about when and where their meetings should take place, and the utter secrecy of which they must all keep. In the end, everyone signed their names, including Luna Lovegood, Harry was happy to see. The two of them had struck up a rapport during Care of Magical Creatures over the thestrals. She was such a calming presence, something he desperately needed with his fiery temper lately.

Soon, everyone filed out, leaving just Ron, Hermione, Draco and him. Strange, how easily Draco fit into their little group, so that the Trio became a Quartet. Would it have always been this way, if Draco had become his friend earlier? Would he have joined in on their adventures?

Draco held open the door to the chilly November air. "You don't really trust that lot to keep their mouth shut, do you?"

"Of course not," Hermione nodded in thanks as she passed him on her way outside. "That's why I enchanted the parchment they all signed to inform me if someone tattles."

"Sneaky, Granger," Draco said proudly.

"You've been a bad influence on her," Ron stuck his tongue out at Draco, before regarding Hermione with a smile. "Though that was pretty clever. I don't trust that Zacharias bloke."

Harry walked behind them, watching them banter back and forth easily, and felt a swell of affection for these people. He could just imagine their future as adults, meeting up at pubs on the weekends to complain about their work week. They'd even go on holidays together, and any kids they might have would grow up like siblings. It was a small family, Harry had made, without the ties of blood to hold it together, but he wouldn't trade those three for all the galleons in the world. Blinking, he jogged a little to catch up, throwing his arms around all of them, laughing when he nearly knocked them over.

 

* * *

 

"She knows, she has to know. Someone ratted us out."

"I told you, the paper was enchanted. If she found out, it wasn't from our group."

They huddled in the Great Hall, the latest Educational Decree disbanding all clubs weighing heavily on their minds. The timing was suspicious, but they still planned to continue anyway. It's not exactly like they needed Umbridge's permission before.

"We'll need to be very careful about where we host our meetings," Hermione hunched over the Marauder's Map, her wand at the ready should she need to hide it from prying eyes. "The Shrieking Shack?"

He and Draco exchanged a look. "No, that won't work."

"True, too many students heading towards the Whomping Willow would draw attention." Or Harry just wanted to keep that place special.

"Should we do it in Hogsmeade?" Ron suggested. "That way everyone will have the time, and it's away from Hogwarts."

Draco shook his head. "Where in Hogsmeade would be private enough? Besides, I think we've learned by now that Umbridge has spies there."

This seemed hopeless. Hogwarts wasn't designed for secret meetings. Even old, unused rooms were connected to public spaces, where anyone could see them skulking about. He wished everyone had an Invisibility Cloak.

Noticing his look, Hermione said cheerily, "We'll just have to keep on the lookout for a proper place. Until then, I've come up with a great idea to get in contact with everyone without raising suspicion." Then she pulled out a bag of galleons.

 

* * *

 

Something about the first snowfall just did something to Harry. He didn't know if it was all the happy memories he associated with the winter months (so different from the summer) or if he couldn't help but become even more aware of Draco with snow on his eyelashes. Either way, he couldn't wait to drag him to the Shrieking Shack.

They giggled drunkenly, although neither of them knew what alcohol tasted like, and ran hand-in-hand down the grounds to the Whomping Willow. The tree had long since lost its leaves, leaving only bare branches like whips. At their proximity, it flexed its boughs, smashing a few branches into the ground menacingly.

"Wait, wait," Harry called to Draco, who had already started in on his neck. Sheesh, at this rate, they wouldn't even make it into the shack. He pulled out his wand, pointing it at the special knot that would paralyze the tree. As soon as it was safe, he pulled them along to the trunk, and then halted.

Draco managed to pull himself away from his jawline to peer curiously at the tree roots. It took him a second longer to realize what Harry had. "Where's the tunnel entrance?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. Where once the roots had parted to allow them to the underground, now it was closed over as if it had never existed. He pointed his wand at where the entrance should be and said, "Diffindo!" The roots split, but not before the entire tree began to shake in anger. Before Harry could even see if he had opened the passageway, a long branch caught him in the middle and tossed him far away. He landed on his arse in the wet grass, grunting. Not too long later, Draco fell down beside him, face twisted in pain, covering his middle.

"What the hell...?" Harry curled up into a sitting position, watching the willow sway menacingly.

"The tunnel is gone," Draco hissed, also sitting up. "I looked, there's nothing underneath those roots but dirt."

"How could it just be gone? It's been there for years." He'd have to go check the Marauder's Map later.

Draco looked murderous. "Someone's closed it. I'll give you five guesses who."

He felt sick to his stomach. "Umbridge." She must have thought they would use it for their secret meetings. He hardly doubted she would care about what two boys would get up to alone. Then again, the woman seemed determined to ruin his life. She was even worse than Snape. "Now what do we do?"

"There's always the clock tower. Or a broom cupboard." Draco didn't look nearly as hopeful as he sounded.

"That's too easy to get caught. Privacy spells can be taken down." What was he going to do now? Rutting with Draco had been one of the most therapeutic ways for him to let off some steam. Now that he knew how good it felt, he couldn't get enough.

The blond looked just as desperate, his eyes wide with dawning horror. "Let's elope. We'll run away somewhere."

"Draco, you can't solve everything by running away."

"It's worked out well for me so far. Harry, if I can't touch your prick again, I'm going to lose my mind." He flushed at the crass words, but shared the sentiments.

His mind raced. "I...I've got an Invisibility Cloak... We'll just have to get clever with our Silencing Charms..."

"Is it big enough to cover the both of us moving around?"

If it slipped off during an untimely moment... No, it was too risky, not to mention it would ruin the mood. The whole point was to have privacy, a secret moment between themselves to relax and explore each other, not get a quick wank out. Even if they were invisible and silent, if someone walked into that room, Harry would lose his erection instantly. He'd never been an exhibitionist. He looked over to his boyfriend, his lover, and saw him mirroring his own despair. As they headed back to the castle in defeat, Harry thought that he just might cry.

 

* * *

 

"I won't provoke her if she'd stop being such a bitch!" Harry knew he was out of line, but couldn't seem to reel in his words. Angelina didn't deserve his anger, but it was like flames in his throat trapped behind his teeth. As soon as he opened his mouth, they would escape.

"Don't take that tone with me. We could always find a new Seeker." He cowed under her fierce gaze. "Her new decree has disbanded Quidditch teams as well. Just don't give her a reason to not bring us back, okay?"

He nodded, not knowing how well he could keep that promise, but the fear of losing Quidditch too calmed him some. Angelina left in a huff, ponytail trailing behind her, and seeing her out of her Captain's uniform left him with a feeling of vertigo. He had only taken about two steps before Draco stomped over to him, violently pushing Denis Creevey out of his way.

Harry opened his mouth to chastise him for the rough behavior, before Draco grabbed him by the front of the robes and tugged him all the way to the clock tower. Harry made many attempts to tell Draco that he had Herbology next, and really should get going, but he was summarily ignored. When they finally made it to their spot, Draco flung his book bag on the floor in a huff.

"Dra-"

"I was kicked off the Quidditch team," he yelled, fisting his hair. "When they went to Umbridge to reinstate it, they took my name off the list."

"Oh, Draco..." Harry pulled him into a hug, ignoring the wet heat that blossomed on his shoulder for Draco's pride. Quidditch had been the one bright spot in his school year so far, even with his teammates hating his guts. First the Shrieking Shack and now this. It really seemed like something was out to get them. Or someone.

"It's too hard, Harry. I can't take this anymore." His heart stuttered. Did Draco regret defecting to the Light side? Did he regret choosing Harry over the Slytherins? His throat closed at the thought of Draco leaving him, but if being with him made him this sad...

"Do you want to talk to Snape?" He seemed to be the only Slytherin on Draco's side. Whatever their relationship in the past, Snape had made himself Draco's protector.

"No, no, he can't see me like this."

'But I can,' Harry thought with inappropriate glee. He should be ashamed of himself.

"Just..." Draco pulled him into a sobbing kiss. It was wet with tears instead of saliva this time, and honestly not one of their more enjoyable ones, but Harry would give Draco whatever he needed.

The clatter of footsteps beneath them reminded them that they couldn't go much farther than this. "Tell me what you want me to do."

"Can you..." Draco hung his head, his bangs falling over his eyes. "...Could you pet my head, like you did that day?" Harry knew exactly what he was referring to. He pulled them down into a comfortable position on the floor, propping his back up on a wooden crate, and situating Draco in between his legs so that his head rested on his chest. His hands came up to cradle his temple, and a thrill raced up his legs from where he felt Draco's arms resting on them. Wouldn't do to get too excited.

His fingers carded through those platinum strands, revelling in their silky feel. He'd have to ask Draco later what kind of shampoo he used, or maybe it was some special kind of hair tonic. Harry's hair always felt wiry to him, like dog fur. After a while, he felt Draco's shoulders relax, and he let his free hand rub circles on his chest. The touch was completely platonic, without the urge that it usually had. Strangely enough, the act was as soothing for him to do as it was to receive it. Softly, he hummed a tune, no particular melody in mind, just stringing along notes as it pleased him. Only when the light trailing in through the clock face had turned rosy in color did he realize that Draco had fallen asleep, and that he had most certainly missed the rest of his classes for the day.

With a smile, he placed a kiss on Draco's hair, finding it difficult to regret his truancy when he had an armful of sleeping Slytherin. He didn't have a good vantage point, but he could see how sleep softened him, made him look younger. Did Draco miss his mother? Did she do these sorts of things for him? His eyes caressed his face, trailing down those long eyelashes, clumped together with wetness, the baby soft roundness of his cheeks, those plump, kissable lips, and that Roman chin.

'I wonder if this is what love is,' Harry thought to himself. He hadn't had many good examples growing up, but this powerful feeling surging up inside of him certainly seemed like it. Whatever he called it, he just knew that he was in deep.

Slowly, he let Draco's head fall into his lap, a more comfortable position to be sure. His arse was numb, and his feet had fallen asleep, but he couldn't bring himself to move. 'Look at him, Sleeping Beauty, just snoozing away. Maybe true love's kiss will wake him.' With a humorous thought, he leaned down uncomfortably to kiss those lips. When he straightened, Draco's eyes remained firmly shut, still softly snoring. 'It's just as well.' With a smile, he smoothed back those bangs, and watched them defiantly fall back into place.

 

* * *

 

They had been making eyes at each other all during DADA. Many times Umbridge had stopped in front of their desk with a high-pitched _"Hem-hem,"_ and Ron had kicked them underneath the desk, but they were stuck in each other's orbit. Still, when classes finally let out, they rushed off together. They were ahead of the other students, already on the seventh floor, stopping every few steps to get in a quick snog.

"Let's get into your dorm and just lock them out," Draco whispered in between kisses. Any minute now someone could walk by, but Harry was so starving for them that he couldn't bear to stop. "They should know what that would mean."

That's exactly what Harry was afraid of. It was one thing for everyone to know they were dating, but a whole other to know they went further than snogging. "It's their room too."

"Bollocks. They can last without it for 30 minutes."

Harry quirked a brow. "Only 30?"

"I don't know if I can last much longer." Harry just might come in his trousers from the devouring look Draco was giving him.

"I just wished we could have a private room for ourselves. Maybe you should ask Snape for that room."

Draco growled. He didn't know why the Slytherin adamantly refused to get his own room. They had tried the Prefect's bathroom once, but when Ron walked in on them, they had been too embarrassed to ever try again. They were lucky it had only been Ron and not Ernie MacMillan.

The sound of brick grating on brick drew their attention to a door growing itself into existence just beside them. They blinked at each other, then stared at the simple wooden door with a brass handle. It looked like any of the other doors in the castle, but as far as he knew, none of them just appeared spontaneously. Curiously, Harry stepped forward and pushed it open.

Inside was a rather cozy looking room decked out in rich burgundy and warm earthy colors. A large fireplace cackled merrily, warming the entire room, and its light was reflected off of a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The walls were painted black, underneath tapestries of two dragons, one silver and one gold, entwining around each other, flying from tapestry to tapestry. To one side of the room, a large canopy bed with black as night curtains welcomed them, and beside that a record player, looking nearly as old as Dumbledore himself, played a familiar song.

"Is that...?" Draco didn't get to finish, because the approaching sound of many footsteps caused Harry to panic and push him inside. The door closed with a soft click, and then faded into the wall. With a gulp, Harry realized that maybe entering a mysteriously appearing room hadn't been such a grand idea. "Harry, what...?"

"Sorry, people were coming." He shrugged his shoulders.

Draco went over to where the door had once been and now was only smoothly carved stone. He ran his hand over the wall. Suddenly, a large, ornate mirror appeared where his hand was, and Draco leapt back. Harry was by his side in an instant, looking through it. Instead of seeing his reflection, he saw a hallway. At first, it appeared empty, but then a group of Gryffindor students walked past, talking animatedly, although no sound drifted through the glass.

"I was just thinking," Draco gaped in wonder, "that I wished I could see into the corridor." He turned to look at Harry with wide silver eyes. "I think this room grants wishes."

Harry flushed. "So we were just wishing we had a place to... and then this room appeared." He looked around the bedroom. It certainly fit his criteria.

Draco beamed at him. "I think the castle wants us to get laid. It's even playing our song."

His cheeks colored. He hadn't really thought of that song Draco had played for him during the Yule Ball as "their song," but it did hold a special place in his heart.

Said heart skipped a beat when he noticed that Draco was holding out his hand to him with that boyish grin that made Harry's insides melt. "Well, come on then. Don't you want to dance?"

Harry kicked his book bag out of the way, feeling strangely shy considering he had just had his tongue down the other boy's throat not so long ago. He took Draco's hand, yelping when he was suddenly pulled into a spin. Draco laughed at his flabbergasted look and quickly put them into the proper position for a waltz. It felt a bit silly, dancing in their school robes.

Suddenly, the music switched into a slow jazzy number, the sound fuzzy with age as a woman crooned out nonsensical French. Draco paused, cheeks pink. "Sorry, I was just thinking about this song."

With a blink, Harry continued their dancing, slower this time to match the tempo. He didn't much mind what they danced to, he just loved dancing with Draco. "You like jazz music?"

"I think it's more under the category of big band music, but yes. Mother often listened to it when I was younger, especially during summers at the château in Cannes. She stopped when I was ten. I didn't."  
  
"A château in France?" Harry raised his eyebrow. Sometimes he forgot how ridiculously upper crust the Malfoy's were. "So do you speak French then?"

"Je peux embrasser en français aussi." It was cliche, but the sound of french tumbling from Draco's lips tickled his gut. This was a dangerous topic. He needed to change it now.

"Remus listens to a lot of that kind of music, but I thought it was just because he was old."

"Harry, that's before his time. He's not that old."

He laughed. "He certainly acts like an old man."

"Well then, what kind of music do you like?"

He thought for a minute before saying, "Anything you can dance to." He didn't think that statement warranted a kiss, but suddenly Draco pulled him in by his tie and pressed his lips against Harry's. Strange, how before entering the room they had been absolutely gagging for it, but now there was none of the urgency, only a growing warmth, like that feeling he got from drinking hot soup on a cold winter day. With each kiss, feeling increased in his fingers as they traced the outline of Draco's shoulders. With every nerve sparking slowly to life, it was as if he had been numb before.

And then Draco's tongue licked his lips and the urgency came back. With each wet slide of lips, a fire in Harry's breast flickered brighter until he thought he must be glowing from the inside out with it. Draco pawed at his neck, whispering desperate pleas of his name, while Harry pulled a silver and green striped tie from his shirt.

"It's been so long," Harry keened, moving his lips away from that sinful mouth and all over Draco's face. No spot was left unkissed. In reality, it had only been a little over a week, but that had felt like decades to the both of them. In response, Draco's hands slithered under his shirt and teased his nipples, a move he had grown rather fond of, for the way it made Harry gasp with a squeak and twitch. And Harry allowed the embarrassing noises out for the way they made Draco growl low in his throat.

Slowly, Draco backed him up, pulling off his robes, and hand fumbling for his belt buckle. Harry did the same, even got as far as pulling off his grey jumper before the back of his knees hit the bed, sending him falling onto his back. Draco half crawled on top of him, one knee digging into the black covers, and his hands quickly undoing the knot of his tie just enough to let him rip open his shirt. Harry couldn't fault him for not wanting to waste time with buttons, all thoughts about what repair spell would fix his shirt later flew out of his head when hot lips circled around one nipple.

His toes curled, and his breath came out heavy through his nostrils. "Dra-" His voice sounded strange even to his own ears, so he bit his lip to stop himself from making any sounds that might turn Draco off. He nearly drew blood when a devilish tongue joined in. He had never done this before. Sure, Draco had some weird fascination with his nipples, no matter how many times Harry told him that he wasn't a girl, but he had only used fingers before. He yelped when he felt the scrape of teeth over the sensitive nubs.

"You're thinking too much again." Molten silver glared at him from his chest, the angle a bit awkward on his neck.

"If it makes you feel any better, I was thinking about you."

A smirk. "As you always should." His hands caressed the spot in light apology. Then he pulled up just a bit, his hands on either side of Harry's shoulders. The lascivious smirk from before was gone, leaving an uncharacteristically wary look on Draco's face. His hand flew up to smooth those worry lines before he even thought about it. Draco closed his eyes, turning his head just enough to kiss his fingers. "Harry... I want to try something different today."

"Oh? What?"

In answer, Draco pulled one of his digits into his mouth and sucked on it like a lolly. If Harry didn't have an erection before, he certainly did now. Words failing him, he nodded his head enthusiastically. That earned him a grin, and the fingers fell from his face, his arm landing like dead weight beside him.  
  
Draco leaned down for a sloppy kiss, 'a French kiss,' Harry thought with a silent laugh. It ended too soon, his tongue chasing after that mouth fruitlessly. Snogging with tongue had felt strange at first, but now he couldn't get enough of it. Then lips trailed down to his neck to nibble at the flesh there for a while. His hands curled into the duvet, nails digging into the fabric. He could feel Draco smiling at his reactions, and then he bit down onto a section of flesh and sucked.

Harry's eyes fluttered at the same beat of his heart, his legs tightening painfully around Draco's waist. Involuntarily, his hips moved, rutting against the other boy's stomach, but he couldn't stop his lewd body from moving on its own. The realization that Draco was leaving a hickey on his neck boiled his blood and turned his breath to steam. He would have a mark, an adult mark, for all the world to see, if he so wished. He imagined walking around the castle with his top buttons undone just enough to let a tantalizing peek show, and everyone would know exactly who put it there. He wanted Draco to mark him all over.

Unfortunately, he moved on from Harry's neck, kissing, licking and nipping his way down his chest. He teasingly skimmed around his nipples, and Harry grumbled behind clenched teeth. Draco paused long enough to give him a grin that said the git knew exactly what he was doing to him. He squeezed that waist painfully tight in retaliation. The blond only grunted before moving on. His path took him down Harry's sternum, down his abdomen, with a curious stop at his belly button that had only made him laugh from how much it tickled. Then his mouth reached the end of his skin, hidden underneath his trousers as it was.

Draco had to regrettably lift his head to pull his trousers down, but on the other hand, some of that restriction lifted. He let out a sigh of relief when his pants followed his trousers down past his knees. His erection stood up proudly as if it too were straining towards Draco. He was already leaking.

He waited for Draco to get on with it, to touch him where he needed it the most, but he only sat poised above him. Those silver eyes roamed over every inch of him, gobbling him up. Harry turned his head to the side, covering his face with one arm. "W-Why are you staring at me like that?"

"I can't get over how...sexy you are," Draco breathed in disbelief, his hands roving up and down his torso sensually.

"M-Me?" How could anyone think he was sexy? Draco was the handsome one, with his seductively long legs and lean frame, and aristocratic demeanor.

"I'm about to come in my trousers just from the sight of you." Harry couldn't see what face Draco was making from behind his arm, but he had to know what his words were doing to him. "My dreams really don't do the real thing justice."

"Stop, stop," Harry's hands flew from his face to clap on top of Draco's mouth. If he said any more, his head just might explode from the embarrassment. Did Draco really dream about him like this? The same way that Harry did on the nights he woke up with wet pyjama bottoms?

Draco kissed his hands, his own grabbing at his wrists to pin them down by Harry's head. "But most of all, I love the way my words make you squirm." He pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "As if no one's ever complimented you before. You must see it in the way everyone else looks at you, like you're Ganymede himself." Draco had to be on something. Nobody looked at him like that. Then his eyes glinted with a harsh light. "But none of them can have you, can they? The miraculous Golden Boy, all mine." He looked entirely too pleased with himself.

"You talk too much."

Draco laughed, smirking at him in that same way he did when he had challenged him to a race. His hands left his wrist and Draco removed his body from on top of his, leaving cold air where he had once been. Before he could miss him too much, he kneeled beside the bed, in between Harry's knees, and his hands caressed the insides of his thighs. The muscle there twitched, and Harry jutted his hips up into the air to show Draco where his attention should really be focused. The boy tutted, pushing his hips back down, but relented by cradling his sack.

Harry threw his head back as the boy fondled his balls with one hand, his fingernails sometimes lightly scratching against the soft flesh of his perineum. And then, before Harry even realized what was happening, a hot, wet heat engulfed the head of his prick. A gasp escaped him, his eyes blown wide and his mouth hanging open. He looked down his heaving chest to see Draco's lips wrapped around his cock. Bloody hell, what was he doing? That had to be gross, but Harry couldn't get enough of the feeling. His pelvis rolled into a shallow thrust quite without his permission, pushing his prick just the tiniest amount further in, but firm hands on his hips pushed him back down into the bed.

He opened his mouth to say sorry, but then a weird sensation of something pulling at his head, and a bit of pressure around his prick, and all he managed to get out was a strangled cry. Then Draco pulled off of him with a lewd pop, and set to licking him from base to tip. He could feel his cock jump at that and just a little bit of cum leaked out. He wouldn't last very long at all. Then that sinful mouth wrapped around his cock and sunk down even further. Then it pulled back up and then sunk down again, and soon Draco put up a steady rhythm. Harry's hands flew down to tangle into Draco's hair, whether to push him down or pull him off, he couldn't say. They trembled weakly, all energy pooling down at his groin.

"Dra-co...oh..." His voice sounded alien to his own ears, like a stranger's voice. Those vulgar noises couldn't possibly be coming from him. Add to that the wet slurping noise traveling up his chest and into his ears, and Harry couldn't think of naughtier sounds. "Draco, Draco, I'm--" His fingers curled tightly. It had to be painful for Draco, but he couldn't make his muscles unclench. "I'm gonna..." He tried to pull his head off, but the stubborn bastard only smacked his hands away, sucking even harder. Lightning danced behind his eyes, and Harry arched his back and came with a scream before he even realized what was going on.

Draco pulled back and spat somewhere to his side. "Ugh, that tastes bloody awful."

'I tried to warn you,' Harry thought at him. He wanted to say the words aloud, but all of the air seemed to have vacated his lungs. That had been more intense than anything else they had done before. He didn't think he would ever have the strength to move ever again.

He felt the bed sink down next to him as Draco crawled on. With a start, he turned enough to look at him and say, "Wait, what about you?"

"Don't worry about me," Draco sighed next to him. "I get off on making you feel good."

"But you still haven't--"

Draco scooted back a bit to reveal a very obvious wet stain on the front of his trousers. "I told you. I get off on making you feel good." Sweet Merlin, Draco had just come in his trousers just from having Harry's prick in his mouth. He could feel his cock stirring back to life. Already?

"I like to make you feel good too."

"I told you--"

"No." Maybe Harry still had some store of energy tucked somewhere inside, because he managed to lift his hand to palm at that spot on his trousers. "I want to touch you too."

Draco hissed through his teeth. "Oh, Harry, yes..." He didn't even try to hold back from rolling his hips into his hand.

Harry licked his chapped lips and eagerly undid Draco's trousers and pushed them down along with his pants. His member was only half hard, still good recovery time considering he had just come not too long ago. He went straight to pumping it with his hand, too overzealous and impatient to deal with all of the teasing that Draco liked to do. It didn't take long to harden into a full-blown erection.

He paused. "Do you want me to...too?"

Draco opened his eyes, which had been screwed shut before. "Only if you want to."

Strangely enough, Harry found he did. Putting a cock in his mouth sounded terribly unhygienic, but it had felt amazing, and he wanted Draco to feel that way too. So he shifted his body around so that his feet were up by the pillows and he lay propped up on his side by his elbows, with Draco's hips just in front of his face. He felt too tired to get on his knees as Draco had done. Still, he felt a weird surge of giggling electricity under his skin, and he knew his limbs were shaking as he leaned down to give an experimental lick to the tip of his cock. It tasted salty, like other flesh, with the tang of spunk from his previous spendings. The cock twitched quite visibly and Harry stared in wonder at it.

Bolstered, he gave it another lick, his ears tickled by the sound of Draco's groan. Then another, then he held his tongue flat against it and pulled it up the entire length of it. Draco choked around his name, and now Harry could understand what Draco had been talking about before. Without even touching himself, he could feel his cock swell. He nestled his nose into the bush of blond curls at the base of his prick, amazed by how soft they felt compared to Harry's own. Did he use some kind of product to get them that way? Maybe he had done just that for Harry. Eagerly, he wrapped his mouth around his cock and sunk down as far as he could. He felt the tip hit the back of his throat and pulled off with a gag.

Draco sat up in worry, but Harry pushed him back down. "Sorry, sorry, got too excited."

"You don't have to go that far," Draco spoke in that breathy way that sent butterflies into his stomach. "Don't push yourself." Even Draco hadn't been able to get more than halfway down his prick.

He pushed down his competitive spirit, and set his mouth back on it, this time letting only the head sit on his tongue. Draco threw his head back and moaned so loudly, Harry swore the whole castle must have heard them. He could only hope the mysterious magic of this castle had seen fit to silence their room when it took the door away.

Thinking back on what Draco had done for him, he gave a little suck, his cheeks hollowing slightly. A pleased hiss was his reward, so Harry did it again harder. A salty tang burst on his tongue, and with a sick fascination he realized that it was a tiny dribble of cum. Deciding on a bit of experimentation, he swirled his tongue around, delighting in the feel of a hard prick in his mouth. Merlin, he sounded like a slapper.

His reward this time was a familiar wet heat around his prick. When he looked down with a surprised gasp, he saw that Draco had taken advantage of their new position to return the favor. With renewed vigor, he set upon Draco's cock, bobbing his head shallowly and sucking with loud, wet noises. The air hung heavy with the stench of sex, and Harry inhaled it greedily through flared nostrils. When a hand wrapped around the base of his prick at the same time that a mouth sucked on the tip, he moaned around the cock in his mouth. He heard Draco's breath hitch and knew that he was close. Unlike him, Harry had no desire for that foul taste in his mouth so he pulled off with a wet pop and pumped him the rest of the way. He came with a strangled shout, spunk shooting onto Harry's nearby face, landing on his lopsided glasses, his cheek, his lips. He felt so delightfully debauched at the thought of Draco's semen all over his face, that he climaxed before he could get a warning out. Luckily for Draco, he had already released his prick to pant into the air, so he didn't have to suffer a mouthful of cum either.

Harry flopped over onto his back, well and truly spent this time. Neither of them had enough energy to right themselves, only enough to pant loudly. Merlin, that felt so amazing. If his whole body wasn't so overly sensitive right now, he'd love to go again, just for the feeling of it.

After their breathing had calmed somewhat Draco spoke into the air. "So I take it you liked that?"

Harry was too tired to lift his head, so he spoke up into the dark shadow of the canopy. "Rather obvious."

A breathy laugh. Then, "Do you think you might want to go further next time? Have full-blown sex?"

Was that some sort of pun? "What do you mean? What have we been doing all this time, then?"

"Harry, this was all...foreplay. We haven't had _real_ sex yet." It certainly felt real.

"What more is there?"

A pause. "Honestly, I'm not sure about that, but I know there's more we could do. I, uh, didn't do more research after this part."

"Wait, you did research for this?" Fingers pinched his thigh, and he wished he wasn't too tired to look at Draco's expression right now. He wondered where Draco had gotten his information. Surely there wasn't some sort of how-to guide in the library. They sat in silence for a while, their pants evening out into light breaths.

"Hey, couldn't we use this place for D.A. meetings?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Malfoy is french ("bad faith"), I like to imagine they have some property in France, being aristocratic rich people. And what a British thing to do, giving the bad guys french names. (Voldemort and Malfoy)
> 
> Songs in this chapter:  
> Symphonic Suite of Cinderella's Waltz ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mAGf9RqJSf0 )\  
> La Vie En Rose by Edith Piaf ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFzViYkZAz4 )


	6. The Snake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can't believe you hit Umbridge in the face," Harry laughed though it was as loud as a whisper with how much heaving he was doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You cannot tell me that Sirius and James didn't listen to rock albums together. Sirius ran away from his home at 16 to go live with the Potters, and they totally headbanged to rebellious rock music, even some from (gasp) Muggle bands. Sirius always struck me as a hair metal kind of guy.

As far as first meetings went, the first D.A. meeting went rather okay, much better than Harry thought it would. People grumbled a bit at starting with the basics, but most of them needed work on their Disarming Charms. Harry supposed if you didn't have cause for using it as much as Harry did, you might forget it. Honestly, Harry considered it the most important defensive spell a witch or wizard could learn.

By the third, he felt so confident and comfortable in his teaching position, that he even took a page from Remus' book and decided to play some music in the mirrored room. A couple of people, namely Cho Chang's friend, groaned in protest when he put on the David Bowie album Sirius had given him over the summer, but he told them when they could successfully beat him in a duel, then they could choose the music. He hadn't meant it to be as motivating as it was, but suddenly everyone put forth way more effort than before. He pouted a bit. He liked the Metamorphmagus' music, and he liked the fact that it was a gift from his godfather. Surprisingly, Zacharias applauded his music choice.

"You should play something classier next time," Draco told him in a quiet voice as he watched everyone practicing on the dummies the Room provided for them. "Classical music is good for concentration."

"What are you going to do about it, Malfoy," Harry teased. "Launch another serpent at me?"

"I've learned a few more spells since second year. Oi, Longbottom, move your wand more confidently. Your movements are too sluggish."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I don't remember making you the teaching assistant, Draco."

"Does that make you my teacher then? Oh, Mr. Potter, are you going to give me detention?" He bat his eyelashes and waggled his eyebrows at the same time. It made him look like he was having a seizure. Harry snorted.

Finnegan groaned like he were about to vomit. "Please, Malfoy, some of us are trying to learn here."

Draco only scoffed, but went back to his practice dummy. Some members still felt uncomfortable with the Slytherin's presence, mainly those Harry didn't know very well. Pretty much everyone in Gryffindor had gotten used to the blond sitting at their table during meals and flirting obnoxiously with him. It had become the one safe space he had, and Harry would be damned if this club wouldn't be one too. Harry hadn't seen any obvious bullying, but he knew Draco wouldn't tell him if anything did happen. He had this weird idea in his head that seeking help made him weak.

"Parvati, that was very good. Now do it again, and even quicker this time."

 

* * *

 

Harry had been walking down the fourth floor corridor when he spotted a familiar Slytherin. He'd not really known Blaise Zabini, never really spoke to him at all, if he could remember. He had been much more reserved than the rest of his gang, more of an extra body than an active player. He was the embodiment of a frigid beauty: statuesque features and smooth, satiny skin, but his facial expressions left much to be desired. Despite how every bit of his posture warded away company, Harry walked up to him.

"How could you?" At Zabini's look, he clarified, "How could you all just turn on Draco like that? I thought you guys were friends."

Zabini scowled, and it ruined his handsome features, in his opinion. "Obviously fucking a Slytherin doesn't translate to understanding them."

Harry wanted to punch him in his perfect face. "Then make me understand."

"Did our dearest Draco not explain it to you? He's a leper, a germ. If you get too close, you'll be infected."

Harry seethed, and that punch was looking all the more appealing. Only memory of the consequences of the last time he punched someone kept him cool. "I can't believe you're all a bunch of homophobic bastards as well as giant racists."

The Slytherin rolled his eyes. "No, you imbecile. He's got a price on his head. He's as good as walking around with the Black Spot. Despite popular belief, not all Slytherins are Junior Death Eaters, but we certainly don't want to incur the wrath of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named for mere association." Zabini's face had that same cool condescension that all Slytherins seemed to wear. Did they have a class for that or something? Despite that, his words were scathing. "You've ruined him, Potter. You best take responsibility for that."

"What's wrong, Zabini? Jealous?" He'd always thought the boy was a little too clingy to Draco.

Zabini laughed. "I'm not the jealous one."

Harry reared back, prepared to defend himself, when a shrieking voice to his right drew his attention to the newcomer. Pansy Parkinson sauntered down the hall, her ugly pug face scrunched up in a sneer, her newly acquired Insquisitorial Squad badge pinned to the front of her robes. "What are you doing talking with the Whore, Blaise? Looking to get yourself some action?"

Zabini sighed like a weary mother of eight. "I would never lower myself for company. You should know I have no problems in that department."

Parkinson jeered at him. "Go ply your trade somewhere else, Whore."

The consequences were starting to look inconsequential, and Harry's hand itched towards his wand. "Shut up, Parkinson. And stop messing with Draco. Don't you have better things to worry about than acting like a colossal bitch? Maybe spending a little more time in the mirror?"

Parkinson was livid, all haughty sneers gone. "You're one to talk, Scar Head. You always look like you'd just rolled out of the gutter. I can't believe Hogwarts has fallen so low as to accept street urchins now."

"And yet this street urchin gets more action than you do, Parkinson."

Parkinson stomped her foot on the ground and let out a terrifying shriek that he thought for a moment that she had turned into a banshee. "I'll kill you, I swear I will." Her hand went to her pocket, but Harry was faster. Before she had even drawn her wand out, Harry Disarmed her, her wand flying into his hand.

"Not with that level of skill you won't." Harry mentally patted himself on the back when Parkinson looked like she was suffering from apoplexy. "Promise to leave Draco alone, and I'll give you back your wand."

"If you weren't here, everything would have been perfect. I wish you'd never been born, Potter."

"I could just break it. I'll say it was an accident."

"No! Fine, I promise, alright? Just give it back." She held her hand out as if she were sticking it into a viper's den. Harry almost hoped that his mere touch would sully her wand for her.

"I don't believe you."

"I promise! No harm shall befall his perfect head by my hand. Now give me back my wand, Potter!" Her voice was beginning to take a hysteric twinge to it, so he took pity on her and tossed the wand at her. She caught it, clutching it tightly to her chest. "You'll get yours one day, Potter. You'll see." And then she scampered off.

Beside him, Zabini chuckled, and honestly, Harry had forgotten about him. "'Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.' Good show, Potter. Maybe Draco's rubbed off on you in more than the literal sense?"

Harry flushed.

Zabini's smile fell, returned to his icy look from before. "If you get that boy killed, Pansy will be the least of your worries." And then he slithered away, head held high. How was it that Zabini had won that conversation?

 

* * *

 

December had fully set in, bringing with it the heavy Scottish snowfall. Outside of the castle was a winter wonderland of marshmallow hills and licorice black trees bleak against the pure white. The students were like gumdrops, bundled up in colorful scarves and earmuffs. The air was still with anticipation, and Harry shivered gleefully. In contrast, Draco walked beside him glumly, his eyes dark with something he wouldn't tell him again. Harry thought maybe he should leave a dungbomb in the Slytherin Dungeons, but he'd have to work out the details of that later.

"What happened?" he demanded the moment Draco came within hearing range.

"Nothing." His words were muffled by the silver and green scarf he wrapped around his chin.

"Doesn't look like nothing."

He sighed heavily, turning his gaze to the snow-capped Northern Towers. "Honestly, nothing happened. Just... Someone said something to me."

"What? Who?"

Harry couldn't see behind his scarf, but the crinkling at the edge of Draco's silver eyes told him that the boy was smiling fondly at his mother henning. "They said something along the lines of drinking my own medicine." He shrugged his shoulders in false apathy.

Harry seethed. Sure, Draco had been a major bully, but you didn't fight that with more bullying, it just started a cycle of torture that no one could escape from. 'Or you are being biased,' he told himself. 'If you weren't dating the poor sod, you'd be laughing along with everyone else.' He'd liked to think he wouldn't stand for wrongdoing, even against a former enemy, but he knew himself to be much more catty than that. "Tell me who."

"No. If I do, you'll go and kill the kid, and then you'll be expelled from Hogwarts, and then how are you supposed to save the world?"

"Oh, I see, this is all for the greater good then?"

"You know me, an altruistic saint."

They both laughed, the dark mood lifting away. "Actually, I think I have something that might make you feel better." He grabbed Draco's gloved hands with his own mittens and gently tugged him away from the castle.

"Oh? Christmas isn't for another two weeks."

"Come on." Harry could barely contain himself, he kept turning to glance over his shoulder to see Draco's reaction. When the mounds of snow came into view, he gave up and just started walking backwards so that he could catalog every single twitch of muscle.

"Ah, so the Prince of Slytherin has finally graced us with his presence," George teased lightly, molding some snow into a ball.

"Presents? Where?" Fred's head popped up from behind a rather impressive snow barrier.

"What is this?" Draco's face was so open in his surprise with none of his usual airs. He gaped at the group of kids, mainly Gryffindors, though Luna waved at him dreamily next to Dean.

"What's it look like? A snowball fight," Ron rubbed his hands together for warmth.

Harry explained, "You said once that you wanted to have one. Now's your chance."

Draco blinked rapidly and took a deep breath. Despite how cold it was outside, his eyes were blazing. "I've always wanted to throw something at the Weasley's. Now I can."

"Not on your life, Malfoy," the twins and Ginny chimed together. They looked at each other in surprise.

"So how are we doing this?" Hermione asked the crowd. "Teams?"

"No," Seamus said with too much passion for a simple schoolyard snowball fight. "A Battle Royale. Every man for himself. Winner takes all."

"Takes what?" Dean asked with a smirk.

Before Seamus could respond, a ball of snow exploded onto his shoulder. Everyone followed the trajectory of the snowball back to the lone Ravenclaw. "Are we not starting?" Luna asked in her soft-spoken voice.

"You're in for it now, Looney!" Seamus used his wand to hurl three snowballs at once, but they were met with a Shield Charm produced rather suddenly from Neville's wand.

"Oh-ho! Neville's got balls!" Angelina laughed. He flushed, and his shield sputtered out. Her laughter was cut short by packed snow filling her mouth, and then she angrily returned fire on George, and then the fight began.

Everyone rushed to hide behind the makeshift cover built earlier, gathering up snowballs with either hand or wand. Harry pulled Draco down by his sleeve when he just stood there dumbly. "Come on! We've got to return fire."

"What? I don't know how." His eyes were large and darted between Harry and the others rapidly. It reminded Harry rather humorously of a water fowl.

"You just grab a handful of snow like this and then pack it into a ball." He demonstrated, and nodded encouragingly when Draco followed suit. "And then you throw it." He stood up briefly to hurl the snowball at the nearest person, which happened to be Ginny. She dodged it easily and stuck her tongue out at him in good fun.

"So like this?" Draco stood up and threw the snowball with a loud huff. It flew through the air and struck Ginny right in the head, exploding into soft powder on contact. She turned around with fiery vengeance in her eyes, so they had to retreat.

Harry didn't know what Draco had been so timid about before. He had a good arm and a Seeker's quick reflexes, though Angelina, being the Chaser that she was, had the best aim out of anybody. Every single one of her projectiles hit. Fred and George had magically spelled their snowballs to hone in on specific people, though they were easy to dodge. Seamus went for sheer numbers, hurling multiple snowballs at once, covering a large area, but he took a long time to make more ammo when he ran out, which left him a sitting duck. Dean took advantage of that more often than not. Guess there was no loyalty amongst lovers.

He and Draco on the other hand had teamed up rather effectively. They stood back-to-back, making and throwing the snowballs without magic. Many times one of them would push the other down to avoid an incoming snowy missile, and then they'd laugh at rolling around in the snow. Harry had done just such a thing, launching himself to the side and pulling Draco down with him, and just as he landed on the ground, threw a snowball that hit Luna in the knee. She giggled and bounced away, Neville following her. He had landed on his back, with Draco half on top of him, and he suddenly became aware of their position. Distantly, he heard Hermione shriek with delight and Seamus' war cry, but they sounded muted compared to Draco's heavy breathing on top of him. For a second, he considered pulling him down for a kiss, snowball fight be damned, but then Draco was pushing himself to his feet to hurl a snowball with a delighted laugh. "You're in for it now, Weasley!"

"Which one?" All four of them exclaimed at once.

He bit back the cold disappointment as Draco didn't even spare him a glance on his war path, but found the sight of his laughing face to be worth it. He'd never seen him look so alive. His scarf had fallen loose, revealing his manic grin, and his ear muffs were slightly askew, holding his hairs in a messy do. The rosy color of his cheeks complimented the alabaster pallor of his skin, and Harry couldn't look away. His mooning earned him several snowballs from Seamus and Dean, who had apparently struck up a truce.

Even then, he still couldn't look away as Draco reeled his arm back and chucked a particularly large snowball with all the force he could muster. It whooshed past Ron and landed right in the face of a passing Umbridge. Everyone stopped with a gasp, even Filch who had been walking beside her in his ratty trench coat. Then Umbridge, with her face still covered in snow, broke the tense silence with a shrill cry of "DETENTION!" that sent everyone shrieking with laughter and running away in different directions.

Harry grabbed Draco by the arm and dashed towards the castle, his laughter falling behind him. It was echoed by Draco's own, and he was sure they were all getting concerned looks, running and laughing through the halls, soaked through from the snow. They stopped on the stairs to the third floor, giggling breathlessly like a couple of lunatics.

"I can't believe you hit Umbridge in the face," Harry laughed though it was as loud as a whisper with how much heaving he was doing.

Apparently, Draco must have thought that that was still too much air in his lungs, because he grabbed him by the cheeks to pull him in for a kiss. Just as Harry had gotten over his surprise and started to really get into it, he pulled back with a wet smack. "This was the best present I've ever received. I love you." He looked as surprised at his own words as Harry was.

He melted, no longer feeling the cold. "You do?" He knew he had a ridiculously goofy grin on his face but he couldn't help it. No one had ever told him they loved him before. Oh, sure, Ron and Hermione (mostly Hermione) would say it in that casual platonic way, but never this kind of love, the kind that set him on fire so much he thought he might drift up and away like a hot air balloon (or his Aunt Marge.) His hands snaked their way down to Draco's own to hold them, just gently cradling his fingers.

Draco stared down at their conjoined hands in wonder, as if he were changing colors or something. Then, a small smile, just a tiny little thing, pulled at his lips, his eyes crinkling in dreamy fondness, and he twisted his hand to thread their fingers together. "I do," he whispered.

Harry felt like crying, which was weird because he was happy. So instead, he kissed Draco.

"What a disgustingly sentimental display."

The two of them pulled apart as if they had just been electrocuted, and turned in horror to find Snape sneering at them. He looked very much like he were standing in front of a vat of flobberworm mucus. Harry remembered why he hated this man so much, as if he could have forgotten.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for forcing me to see such an appalling sight--" Harry opened his mouth to object, but Snape plowed on "--and five points from Slytherin for going along with it."

"Sir, you can't take points for snogging," Harry protested a little too loudly, earning them some curious looks from passing students. Oh, yeah, he had completely forgotten where they were.

"Actually, Mr. Potter, I can. If you will remember Educational Decree Number Seventeen, 'salacious and lewd acts' committed between two students is forbidden. The normal punishment is detention. Be glad I am only taking points. Now if your hormones are quite under control, please return to your respective dormitories and change into something dry, before either of you catch a cold." He paused. "Although I hear that idiots don't catch colds." He regarded them with a derisive snort before storming off in a billow of black robes. Did he practice looking like a villain or did it just come naturally?

"Greasy git," Harry grumbled under his breath.

Draco elbowed him softly. "He's a professor. You can't talk about him like that."

"How could you possibly defend him after that? I bet he thinks two boys together is disgusting." Even though he didn't care a lick about the bat's opinion, his stomach still curdled.

"I think it's the opposite actually. He was much kinder than usual. He said it himself, the normal punishment is detention and a letter home. He was warning us about keeping our displays private. He even worried over our wet clothes like a mother hen. I'm a bit worried about his state of mind, now that I think about it."

Harry shook his head. If he was so worried about them, why would he say such mean things? Why not just be straightforward like any normal person would have done? "You're over thinking things."

"I actually think you two would get along if you'd just start treating each other like normal human beings."

Harry couldn't possibly see how. Whatever the greasy-haired professor's intentions, he had ruined a pivotal moment for them, and Harry didn't think he could ever forgive that.

 

* * *

 

As if Snape's words were prophetic, Harry woke up the next morning with a runny nose and a queasy stomach. His limbs were so weak that they shook terribly if he tried to get out of bed, and his stuffy head would sway dangerously, so he remained under the covers. Ron promised to fetch some Pepper-Up Potion from Madam Pomfrey, when he felt too nauseous to go there himself, and so he spent his Saturday in bed. Figures he would fall ill on a weekend. He couldn't even miss class. Hermione probably felt relieved on his behalf though.

Most of all, he missed Draco. His revelation from yesterday still echoed through his skull, making him feel light-headed and sweaty. Or maybe that was just the fever. Dobby had been frantic when he learned about his condition, and spent the day watching over him, popping in and out with ginger tea and reheating it when Harry let it go cold. He could only stomach a few sips at a time. The plate of digestives sat on his bedside table completely untouched.

He drifted in and out of sleep. He couldn't remember most of his dreams, but he could remember walking through a familiar, black tiled hallway. He recognized it as the Department of Mysteries. He spent most of his time in front a door, angry that he couldn't find a way through. At one point, he woke up to find a vial of rosy orange liquid next to the digestives. He forced himself to swallow it down, ignoring the steam that trailed out of his ears as the potion burned through the virus. Sleep claimed him again.

 

* * *

 

Harry looked up from his Astronomy homework to see Ron and Hermione entering the common room, followed by none other than Draco. They didn't normally bring Draco into Gryffindor Tower, as it was kind of against the rules, but if none of the other Gryffindors complained, well...

Draco stepped out from behind his friends, and Harry realized he was holding the dollhouse he had seen at Grimmauld Place, and sure enough, a little reptilian head poked out of a second storey window, smoke trailing from its nostrils.

"What's going on?" he asked, eyes darting between all of them.

"It's not safe for little Harry Jr. in Slytherin dorms anymore, and I was hoping you'd take care of our son for the rest of the year."

Harry's face glowed with embarrassment. "Don't call it our son!"

Draco looked aghast. "Harry! You'll give him abandonment issues." Then he turned his head to coo at the little dragon. "Don't listen to him, Junior. Daddy still loves you."

Ron looked very much like he was hiding a snort behind his hand, and Harry sent him a glare. "Fine, I'll take him. They're not harming any of your other stuff, are they?"

Draco shook his head. "It's alright. I'm only asking you to look after Harry Jr. because I'm not sure whether he can be killed or not. I mean, I haven't fed him anything and he hasn't shown any deterioration in his health, but you never know."

Harry frowned, knowing that Draco was keeping important details hidden. He didn't see why the boy was so determined to defend his tormentors. He used to love tattling on Harry and his friends all the time, and now that it's the Slytherins doing him wrong, he keeps silent? But it was an argument he knew he'd never win, so he just took the house from Draco. He'd probably set it next to his bed or something. The little dragon turned its head to look up at him with golden eyes, before it bit at the air towards him viciously. Yeah, he'd be setting this thing far from his bed.

 

* * *

 

Harry seriously considered using a Reductor Curse on all of Umbridge's ornamental plates. For once, he'd like to break something she liked. The toady woman grinned from ear to ear, and he half expected her to stick her tongue out and catch a fly.

"Oh, Mr. Potter, it seems that my punishments have not instilled enough discipline in you."

Vile, wicked, evil--

"I'm afraid the normal detentions just won't do. You assaulted a student today."

Harry bit back from shouting that it was Crabbe's fault, that the porker shouldn't have said such things to his boyfriend if he wanted to keep his nose straight. It hurt that the boy had once been Draco's friend, and it hurt Harry even more to see how much his betrayal hurt Draco. There really was no other course of action.

"Such unsportsmanlike behaviour should not be tolerated." His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. "You are banned from Quidditch for the rest of the year."

"You can't do that," he shouted, jumping to his feet.

"I'm afraid you'll find that I can, Mr. Potter." Oh, the evil bitch was just loving this. She looked positively ecstatic. How naive he had once been to think that Snape was the worst teacher in the world. "You are forbidden from riding a broom. In fact, I'll have to confiscate your Firebolt, to ensure that you don't."

"You can't take that! It's my property."

"I am High Inquisitor. I am the Ministry. I can do as I please."

She had to be a Death Eater, or Voldemort's long-lost sister or something. No person could be this sadistic and still think of themselves as good. He dug his nails into the leather strap of his bag, leaving crescent moon white marks to keep his tears at bay. He'd die before he'd cry in front of this woman.

 

* * *

 

Harry sat on the window ledge in the Owlery, glumly feeding treats to Hedwig and glaring up at the white-grey sky. It was as close as he'd get to flying now. He felt a bit like the witch from Draco's story, as if his heart had been stolen from him. He couldn't tell whether he was extremely unlucky to have all these horrible things happen to him, or extremely lucky to have survived them at all. His temper from before the snowfall had returned with a vengeance, so he felt the best way to retain any of his friends was to separate himself from them. Their pitying looks only grated on his nerves more. He couldn't bare to be in Gryffindor Tower anymore. Now all of the Weasleys were on the Quidditch team.

He berated himself for his bitterness. Ginny was an excellent Seeker, and had done nothing to take his spot. She deserved to have it, and really, if Harry could give it to anyone, it would be her, but he hadn't given it though. No one gloated but the Slytherins. They made all sorts of predictions about Gryffindor's chances without their star player. Harry didn't know what he feared most: that his team would lose the Cup without him, or that they would win.

Absently, he went to stroke Hedwig's feathers, but the owl had jumped into the air and flown off. He swallowed down a bitter taste. It reminded him of the Hate Potion. Some dark and dirty part of himself wanted to clip her wings, so that she would be grounded as well. He wanted to puke that the thought had come from him.

His hands curled into trembling fists, skin red and cracked from the dry winter wind. He wanted to punch something, to crash and burn and destroy. He knew these were bad thoughts, so he bottled them up inside, but that only made them stronger, and the stress of keeping this dark cloud contained was eating away at him. He hadn't gone to meals in the Great Hall in two days. Dobby had been kind enough to deliver him food, if he ate any. It all tasted like paper to him now.

A rattling sound drew his attention to the center of the Owlery where bones of long dead rodents swirled into the air with a magical wind. They came together to reform their skeletons, and three little mice started tap dancing a little tune. A lazily thrown Reductor Curse blew them to smithereens. "Go away, Draco."

Despite his skeletal dancers' untimely demise, the blond stepped into the Owlery with a teasing grin. "Well, someone's in a mood."

"I think you of all people should understand why."

His gaze softened. "Exactly. So here I've come to perform my boyfriend duties and to cheer you up."

"No need. I absolve you of any such duty. You can go now."

The grin faltered, and Harry took sadistic pleasure in wiping that false smile away. He bit his tongue in punishment for such cruel thoughts. "You know I didn't mean it like that. You've really got your knickers in a knot. Look, I know it sucks, but it's not the end of the world. I'm not allowed to play Quidditch either but I still keep a stiff upper lip."

Harry boiled. "Yeah, but you've still got your broom. You could still go flying if you want."

"I don't want to without you."

"No need to hold yourself back for me. Go on have fun with the Weasleys." Never before would he have thought he would use such a tone when saying their name. He sounded just like Malfoy before fourth year. Bile rose up in his throat.

Draco was downright frowning now. "The Weasleys are worried about you. You've been avoiding everybody. Really, Harry, it's just a game. You can play next year. Hermione--"

Harry was on his feet before he even finished blinking. "Oh, Hermione now, is it? What happened to 'Granger'?"

Draco's brows furrowed and his teeth bared in frustration, before they relaxed into a look of understanding. "You're jealous. Really, Harry, that's cute, but you have to know by now that she's not my type. At all. I prefer annoyingly stupid _male_ Gryffindors, apparently."

Any time before now, the words would have pushed back the dark cloud and made him feel silly, but that was not his problem right now.

Draco took a step closer and held out his hand with a sly grin. "You've got a lot of pent-up energy and it's making you testy. I know of a great activity we can do in a very special room to alleviate that."

Was that all he was good for? A wank? "I'm not in the mood. Just go away, Draco."

"Ok, fine, we'll do it here, but it's gonna be chilly." He pulled out his wand. "I guess a good Warming Charm will do--"

Harry pulled out his wand and said _"Expelliarmus"_ before Draco could finish his incantation. The hawthorn wand flew out of his hand and clattered out of the stone archway and onto the steps outside. Draco looked at him as if he had just hurled a knife at him, but Harry didn't want to feel warm right now.

His cheeks were splotchy and his entire form trembled, but Draco still looked absolutely murderous. "Fine. Sit all alone in the owl shite if that's what you want so bad." He turned around and left, presumably picking up his wand from where it had rolled out of sight.

Harry stood there for a pregnant moment, some foolish part of him waiting for Draco to return. Feeling like a heel, he eventually returned to his spot, already gone cold. He wanted to wallow in his misery all alone, and he'd gotten what he wanted. He brought his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around them in a facsimile of a hug, curling up into a tight ball, imagining he was in a cupboard under some stairs. Now that he really was alone, he allowed himself to cry bitter tears.

All the while, _"I love you"_ echoed inside of his head, sounding like an omen.

 

* * *

 

Harry woke up instantly, but not from the hands gently shaking his shoulders or the couple of male voices calling his name. He shot up in bed, barely noticing Dean and Seamus staring at him with concerned looks, and instead grabbed Ron by the arm on his shoulder. "Ron, it's your dad... He's been hurt..."

The ginger haired boy only cocked his head to the side curiously. "What are you on about?"

"I saw it! There was a snake... I... It bit him... There was blood."

Ron moved to pull away but Harry kept him in place. Why couldn't he seem to grasp the urgency of the situation? "You mean in your dream? Are you still sick?"

He wanted to throttle the boy. "It wasn't a dream! I mean, yes, I was sleeping, but this interrupted it. I saw him get attacked by a giant snake." Even as he said it he knew it sounded like the stuff of dreams, but it had felt so real. He could still recall the taste of Mr. Weasley's blood.

Luckily, Professor McGonagall strode into the room in a deep violet nightgown. She looked strange with her grey hair in a long braid down her front instead of her usual impeccably tight bun. Neville followed closely after. "What is going on? Is Harry hurt?"

Harry wanted to scream. They were wasting time, and Mr. Weasley was bleeding out somewhere. So again, he recounted his vision. McGonagall nodded along. Luckily, she believed him, and so she took him and Ron with her to the Headmaster's office. They climbed the rotating stair and stood before an unassuming door with a knocker shaped like a griffin. He could hear muffled voices from the other side, but they died instantly the moment she knocked on the door. After a pause the door swung open.

Despite it being the middle of the night, Dumbledore sat at his desk in a light blue dressing gown with cartoonish stars lining the yellow piping. He didn't appear to have gone to sleep at all. Even more surprising was Snape, sitting in the chair opposite from him, still in his black as night robes. Harry swallowed a lump in his throat. He really didn't want to have to tell his tale in front of him.

"Professor Dumbledore, sorry for the interruption, but Harry has had a nightmare--"

He could see the sneer pulling up on Snape's overly large nose before she even finished. Why did she have to word it like that? "It wasn't a dream! It was real!"

Professor McGonagall frowned at his tone, but didn't chastise him. Instead, she pursed her lips and gestured towards Dumbledore as if to say _Fine, then you tell it._

"I was asleep, but it was real. I saw it happen. Mr. Weasley was attacked by a giant snake." He waited for the scoffing disbelief but none came. Snape only narrowed his eyes in the way he did when he looked at Neville's potion and tried to decipher what exactly had caused it to turn that particular shade of maroon. Dumbledore wasn't even looking at him at all, instead staring somewhere at his bare feet. Flames licked at his throat. Dumbledore had been avoiding any form of acknowledging him all year, and Harry just wished the old man would tell him what he did wrong instead of acting like a catty schoolgirl. He was worse than Ron.

"How did you see this?" Dumbledore's question startled him out of his silent fuming. Still he didn't look at Harry. "I mean, where were you positioned? Were you watching from above? Standing beside?"

"No, it was like...I was the snake. I saw it all from the snake's point of view."

Snape's eyes darkened, and Harry wondered if that had been the wrong answer.

Dumbledore looked over at Ron, who looked as pale as he'd ever seen him. "Was he seriously injured?"

"Yes." What part of giant snake did these people not get?

Dumbledore stood up in one fluid movement without using his hands on the desk to push himself up. He took one large step to one of the many portraits on his wall. "Everard, Dilys, you will need to raise the alarm. The man has red hair and glasses. Make sure he is found by the right people." The old headmasters in their portraits nodded grimly and then ran out of their frames. Then he rushed over to Fawkes who had been sleeping nicely on his perch. The phoenix awoke swiftly, but it blinked its eyes blearily. Dumbledore spoke in a hushed tone, but Harry could still hear him. "We will need a warning." The bird nodded, and in a flash of fire was gone.

Dumbledore turned to McGonagall. "Minerva, I'll need you to wake the other Weasley children and bring them here." The witch nodded and then darted out of the office, leaving Harry and Ron standing uncomfortably alone. Harry heard a soft, but high-pitched ringing in his ears, like he had been standing too close to an explosion. He looked around, but no one else seemed to hear it, and lucky for them, because it was really giving him a headache. Wait, no, the headache was coming from his scar, which still hurt as if someone were trying to pull it open.

Still, Dumbledore didn't look at him. "Phineas. Phineas!" He spoke now to the portrait of a sleeping old man with a pointed silver beard in an emerald green jacket with a silver pocket watch chain slithering out of the pocket to clip onto the lapel. Only when the other portraits started yelling too did the old man grumpily wake up. "Phineas, I need you to go to your other portrait and deliver a message to Sirius for me. Tell him that Arthur Weasley has been gravely injured, and that his family and Harry Potter will be arriving shortly."

Then he turned to Snape with a cryptic look in those blue eyes. "Severus..."

He nodded, sharing a knowing look. A look that Harry would never receive. "Sir..." he tried to get the headmaster's attention, but was completely ignored.

"We will have to start soon. Oh no, not tonight--"

Eyes flickered towards him but didn't linger longer than a butterfly flaps its wings, and it angered Harry so much to have that small tease. He hated the old codger so much right then. He wanted to punch, to destroy, to kill, anything to have him acknowledge his existence. Harry was starting to wonder if he was even real. His scar hurt so bad, surely it must be bleeding, but when he brought his hand up to it, it came back with only sweat.

"Albus, if this is true..."

"I know, Severus. I know. It will leave us vulnerable--"

"LOOK AT ME!" Harry shouted in a voice that did not sound like his own, and he bared fangs he did not have. Finally those blue eyes snapped to him, wide in fear, and they should be. Prey should be afraid.

As suddenly as the murderous wave had entered, it left Harry shaking in his night things. He had wanted to kill Dumbledore, had imagined it with relish. The dark cloud was so large now, suffocating him. He blinked back tears. "What's happening to me?" His voice sounded so small, so fragile, like a baby in a crib.

Surprisingly, it was Snape who stood up. He nodded to Dumbledore and stood in front of Harry. Before he could even ask what was going on, Snape pointed his wand right at him and said, _"Legilimens."_

It was like fingers combing through his mind. Flashes of thought, memories that didn't last long enough for him to discern, and then it felt like something was squeezing his brain so tight he thought it must burst, and then... Nothing. The pain was gone, all of it, and his scar bothered him no more.

"That will do for now," Snape spoke as if he were grading an essay. Harry had no idea what just happened, but allowed some small gratitude to the man.

Before he could ask for an explanation, McGonagall returned with Fred, George, and Ginny. Then everything had to be explained to them again, and by the time they had portkeyed to Grimmauld Place, Snape had been left behind. Everything happened so quickly. The Weasley children were all worked up. They wanted to go to St. Mungo's at that instant, but Sirius warned them not to. After all, how would it look if the family knew about their father's injury before the hospital staff? But then Fawkes appeared with a note from Mrs. Weasley, telling them that she was with their father and to stay put. And then they were all shuffled off to their rooms, though Harry doubted anyone would be sleeping that night.

Instead, he tugged on the sleeve of Sirius' robe. "Sirius, can I have a moment?"

His godfather turned to nod at Remus, before the werewolf went upstairs, leaving Harry and his godfather alone in the sitting room. He set him down on the dark grey sofa with a paternal pat on his shoulder. "What is it, Harry?"

Now that he had his godfather's undivided attention, his throat clammed up. He licked his dry lips. Only after a few deep breaths did he start. "Is it possible for Dark magic to corrupt a person? To make them go bad?"

Sirius nodded grimly. "I'm afraid there is no shortage of Dark magic and rituals which can do all manner of unspeakable things. Are you referring to something specific?"

Absently, his hand went up to his scar. Sirius' grey eyes flicked to it instantly, and an indiscernible emotion flickered across his face. "There's this...dark cloud, in my head. I can't see it, so much as feel it. It's been growing larger and larger, and..." He swallowed thickly. "I'm just so angry all the time. I think bad thoughts, and I say things I don't mean." He blinked away tears. "Is it possible that when Voldemort gave me this scar...or when they used my blood to resurrect him...that it corrupted me, made me bad?"

"You're not becoming bad, Harry."

He shook his head. "But during my vision, it was like I was the snake... I wanted to kill Mr. Weasley. What if it really was me? I can talk to snakes, what if I ordered it to do that? And earlier, in the Headmaster's Office... I wanted to kill Dumbledore too. What if I'm...becoming like Voldemort?" Despite himself, a tear escaped and he quickly wiped it with his sleeve.

Hands gently clasped onto his upper arms, forcing him to face his godfather. "I need you to listen to me now, Harry. You are not a bad person." When he opened his mouth, Sirius cut him off. "No, you are not. You're a good person that bad things have happened to. We all have both dark and light in us. What matters is what we choose to act on." Then his expression eased. "Young people have the infinite potential to become anything all stored up inside of them, but you grow into your choices. They shape the adult that you become. So far you have chosen to be brave, selfless, and a bit of a rascal, if I'm to be honest."

Harry laughed wetly, and Sirius smiled handsomely. "Whatever your choices, I will always love you, Harry."

Then Sirius pulled him into a hug, unable to see the fearful widening of his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You just know that Harry played "The Final Countdown" at some point and there was an epic training montage scene.
> 
> Blaise's quote is from "The Mourning Bride" by William Congreve. It's probably one of my favorite quotes in existence.


	7. The Silver Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Didn't know you were a kinky bastard, did ya?" Draco teased, his chest not heaving nearly as much as it had been before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Hauntingly by ObsidianPen finally ended today, and I am a wreck. If any of you haven't read it yet, it's the best damn fic I've ever read in my entire life, and it will RUIN YOU.

Spending Christmas in a hospital wasn't ideal, and given that he had been ostracizing himself from the Weasleys before he began shouting about their father getting attacked, also extremely awkward. He almost wished he were back at Hogwarts, alone. The Weasleys were perfectly nice, of course, thanking him profusely for saving Mr. Weasley's life, which only made him feel strangely guilty. He knew Sirius was right, that his words had wisdom, but he couldn't shake the dark cloud from his head no matter how he tried.

The Weasleys all stood around their father's bedside, opening presents and crackers and setting them on his bed. They even made a paper crown from the wrapping paper to put on his head. Harry dutifully opened his Weasley jumper, and then slid out of the room and down the hallway. St. Mungo's looked just like any Muggle hospital, to his surprise. Healers in starched white uniforms swept down the hall every once in a while. The tiles were an off-white and the walls a depressing beige that must have some Essence of Dementor mixed in with how much it seemed to suck the life out of him. Earlier that day, they had passed by Gilderoy Lockhart and the Longbottoms in the Extended Recovery Ward. Yes, Christmas at a hospital wasn't ideal.

"Running away, again?" He looked up to see none other than Ginny standing before him in a bright burgundy jumper with a garishly orange G on the front. She sat down on the bench next to him.

"I just wanted to be alone." He put enough emphasis on the words to show he meant the sentiment still applied.

Either Ginny didn't get it or she just ignored it. "It's Christmas. Why would you want to be alone?"

Because he can't help but feel guilty seeing their happy, grateful faces when it feels like he was the one who put him there. Because he was afraid to see his own fears reflected on their faces, the way it had been on Dumbledore's. He didn't say any of those things however.

"I would think you would have come to me, seeing as how I am the only person who knows what it feels like to be possessed by You-Know-Who."

His gaze shot to her instantly. She was right, of course. "I had forgotten about that."

She smiled fondly, and he worried she might be seeing more into this conversation than Harry wanted. Some of it must have shown on his face, because she straightened her back waving her hand in between them like she were swatting a fly. "Oh no, it's not like that. I'm dating Michael Corner now. It's a little hard to keep a crush on a guy who's so obviously in love with another bloke." Her smile was sheepish, but held none of the reverence it used to.

Harry flushed and tried not to think too hard on her words. "So... Michael Corner, eh?" Harry didn't know much about the Ravenclaw boy, even if he was in the D.A., though likely only because Ginny was. He practiced his defensive spells rather well.

She shrugged her shoulders. "He's nice. He actually listens to me when I talk to him." Then her cheeks flushed. "Don't tell Ron. He really buys into the overprotective brother act, and he'll just start acting like a git."

Harry believed her. Ron had been tasked with looking after the youngest sibling growing up and he tended to take it to heart. It was one of the things Harry valued so much in his friend, his fierce protectiveness of those he loved. He smiled a little to think he counted amongst that number, but then ugly guilt welled up in him when he remembered that he hadn't spoken to his friend much before his vision.

As if she could hear his thoughts, she said, "You should make up with him. He's been a big sulky mess lately, and it's driving Hermione and me up the wall." Did she have the ability to read minds? Did that magic exist? Her gaze softened, and she looked towards the tile floor. "When I was possessed, you know, I was afraid everyone would find out and hate me. I distanced myself from everyone, and that only made his hold on me stronger." Now she looked right at him with a fierce gaze that reminded him of how tough she was on the Quidditch Pitch. This was no longer that scared little girl with a diary. "But after everyone found out, no one treated me as I had feared. They all were very nice to me, and sent me get well cards and stuff. I had set a monster loose on the school and painted the walls in blood, and no one treated me like I was the dark wizard that had possessed me." She put her hand on his, a platonic and compassionate gesture, and he wondered when Ginny had grown up. "Even if you were being possessed, none of us would blame you."

His eyes welled up, but honestly, Harry was so sick of crying, and he wouldn't do so now. "Thanks, Ginny." He patted her hand with his own, and now he felt a little bad at only getting her some Chocolate Frogs for Christmas. He vowed to make up for it on her birthday. He stood up, letting their hands remain together for a little longer before slipping apart. "Come on, let's go back inside."

 

* * *

 

Nearly the first thing when he got back to Hogwarts, Harry was sequestered off to Snape's office. It was as bright and cheerful as his classroom, lined with glass shelves of potions with an eerie green glow. He was pushed down into a starkly uncomfortable wooden chair, while the Potions professor prowled around him, black robes trailing behind him like smoke. He wondered if the man only had one set of robes or if he had an entire wardrobe full of the same outfit.

"The Headmaster has seen fit to have me instruct you in the ways of Occlumency, Potter. Your connection with the Dark Lord is growing stronger, and you must shield your mind."

"Why? If I can see what he's up to, I could save more people, just like I did with Mr. Weasley."

Snape snarled at him as if he had just insulted his parentage. "If you can peer into the Dark Lord's mind, do you not also think he can see into yours as well?"

Harry shivered at the thought.

Seeing him sufficiently frightened, Snape continued in his drawling voice. "Occlumency is the art of shielding your mind against outside forces. Conversely, the Legilimency Spell is used to penetrate the mind and to see even your darkest secrets, memories you have long forgotten. The Dark Lord is an accomplished Legilimens. If you are to block him out you must become a master of Occlumency. Though I have little hopes, given your performance in class, but if the Headmaster deems these lessons necessary, then these lessons you shall learn."

Harry twisted his frown at the condescending tone, but he could understand the necessity of the lessons. As much as he loathed having to spend his rare free time, given how much course work his professors were unloading on him with his upcoming O.W.L.s, with Snape of all people, he'd rather not have a murderer rummaging through his brain. "So how are we doing this, sir?"

"I will attempt to penetrate your mind and you will attempt to block me out."

That sounded like a horrible plan. "But how do I do that?"

"Discipline your mind. Control your emotions. Build up your mental walls and make them stronger than me."

"Yeah, but how?"

Snape sneered at his tone, but didn't explain. Instead he pointed his wand at Harry and said, "Legilimens."

Instantly, Harry reared back. This was nothing like the creepy, albeit gentle, combing of fingers through his brain before. This was a battering ram smashing through his memories, playing them all out behind his eyes like a movie reel. _Dudley pounding his meaty fist into his gut, opening his first chocolate frog card, "Oi, watch it," the basilisk screaming as its eye was gouged out by Fawkes, "Wotcher, Harry," a sly wink, snow on eyelashes._

Then the intense alien pressure retreated, and he was left panting in his chair as though he had just run a marathon. His limbs shook with how tense his muscles had been the entire time. Harry didn't know how long the spell had lasted but it felt like forever.

"Pathetic. Are you even trying? Empty your mind, clear your thoughts. That should be an easy enough task for you."

Harry growled, but then he was hit with the spell again. _"Yer a wizard," "You wet the bed again? Dirty little boy!" "...or worse,_ expelled," _molten silver eyes, the gentle caress of fingertips trailing down his skin, leaving fire in their wake, intense pleasure._

Snape pulled back, lowering his wand. "I just might vomit."

"That's private!" The chair shook from how tightly he was grasping on it.

"Nothing is private to Him. Again."

 _Playing with his little tin soldiers, falling out of a tree, but landing just before he hit the ground,_ "Thanksss," _eating treacle tart and laughing at Ron's jokes, Cedric Diggory's lifeless body, "Freak!" His parents smiling down at him from the other side of the dusty mirror._

His breathing hurt his dry throat, and it seemed like all of the moisture in him was escaping through his pores. He had not once stood up, and yet his body felt too exhausted to even do more than shake. "Please, a break. Just give me a minute to rest."

Snape leaned over him, his greasy black hair falling forward. "The Dark Lord is not resting. Do you think He will just stop because you ask Him to? Do you think He will hesitate to torture your mind until you succumb to the madness?"

"He won't need to if you do it first!" Harry was too tired to hold back his cheek.

He stepped back, lips pulled back to bare teeth. "You're just like your father. Arrogant, lazy--"

"My father was a great man!"

"Your father was a swine! And I won't put up with him for longer than I have to. Get out. I'll see you again the day after tomorrow."

Harry couldn't get out of there fast enough.

 

* * *

 

Really, Harry didn't know what he was worrying over. These were his best friends, and they'd been with him through thick and thin. Even Ginny seemed to think it would be easy, but he still stood awkwardly in front of them like they were complete strangers, and he hated that. Hermione looked at him patiently and Ron expectantly, but neither of them spoke. At the awkward atmosphere, the other Gryffindors in the common room cleared out, and Harry felt a little bad that his drama was constantly kicking them out.

"Sorry," he blurted out. Scratching the back of his neck, he blundered on. "Sorry, er, about avoiding you guys. I've been a right git, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you two."

"It's alright, mate," Ron smiled and clapped him on the back so easily that Harry stared at him in astonishment. Just like that?

"We understand how much stress you've been under lately." Hermione walked over to place a hand on his arm. Harry thought suddenly that she would make a wonderful mother. "We don't fault you for wanting some time to sort through your feelings."

He and Ron sneered at how emotional she made it all sound, but he couldn't talk. He had sat in the Owlery, crying like a little girl. His emotions had just grown so intense lately, pulling him around like a ship lost at sea.

"Just...next time tell us you need some time to yourself instead of avoiding us, yeah?" He supposed Ron was right. They would have understood, but at the time he just couldn't bear to look at their faces, especially Ron's. He shouldn't begrudge the boy for getting to play Quidditch when he couldn't.

"Right, sorry." He hung his head.

"We're not really angry with you, Harry. But there is someone who you should really apologize to." He looked up into Hermione's eyes. "You really hurt Draco." He wondered if he'd ever be able to get over the sting of jealousy he would feel when the two of them mentioned each other. He didn't even know why he felt it. The two had expressed how very much they didn't fancy the other.

"He told you about that, did he?" He could kick himself for how bitter he sounded. He was a terrible friend.

Hermione leveled him with a reproachful look. "We're the only friends he's got, Harry. Who else would he tell?"

Now he really felt like an arse. Would he ever not feel like one? "You're right, sorry."

She smiled fondly at him, and pulled him into a hug which knocked the breath out of him. He'd never not be surprised when someone hugged him with such feeling, and it warmed him to the core. "Come on, Ron, get in on this." The boy flushed at his teasing.

"Ah, no thanks, mate, I'm-- woah!" He was pulled forcibly into the group hug by Hermione with a sly grin. He groaned at this touchy-feely display, and his friends laughed. Harry had to admit it would be embarrassing if someone were to walk in on them right now, but he basked in the warmth for as long as he could.

All too soon though, they pulled apart and bid each other goodnight. The boys weren't quite so ready to go to sleep yet. Neville stayed up reading, Seamus and Dean were sitting very close together and talking very intimately. Harry didn't know whether he was glad or not that they left the bed curtains open. He and Ron sat by the window, staring out at the snow.

"I understand how you feel, mate," Ron spoke apropos of nothing. "About Draco and Hermione. I feel a little jealous sometimes too."

That surprised him. "Really?" It took him a foolishly long time to realize that he was jealous of Draco and not Hermione, as Harry was. "Wait, so you..."

Ron flushed as red as his hair and nodded.

"Since when?"

"I don't know. I think it was always there, but I really became aware of it after last year. I figured out why I had been such a git during the Yule Ball." Apparently everyone had made startling revelations then. They should have more school dances often. "I'm not sure what to do about it though."

"Well, go for it, obviously!" He couldn't think of anything better than his two best friends getting together. Then again, he didn't want to have to watch them snog all the time.

"That's easy for you to say. You already knew Malfoy was in love with you."

No, he didn't. In fact, he had thought that Draco had given up on him when he rejected his kiss. "It's scary no matter what. But I think she likes you too." He had no such idea, but if he said anything less than encouraging, his friend would shy away and keep it bottled up forever. He could be rather cowardly when it came to himself.

"Right, right. But maybe I should leave it till after the O.W.L.s. They've been driving her up the wall, and I don't want to add to that."

"Or you can help relieve it." His eyebrow waggle earned him a weak shove. They dissolved into quiet laughter, and he wondered at how the young boy with a pet rat could come to like the frizzy-haired girl with the ugly cat.

 

* * *

 

Harry sat in the Room of Requirement (their room) on the edge of the dark four-poster, watching the two dragons dance around on the tapestries. The Room had been nice enough to provide him with some soothing black tea when his nerves acted up. He really shouldn't be so twitchy, but he couldn't stop the nagging fear that Draco wouldn't accept his apology. Now that he looked on the moment with a clear head, he knew what he had done had been horrible, possibly worse than pushing him away from their first kiss.

The record player by the fireplace began to play a powerful piano ballade that he'd never heard before, but it reminded him of Draco all the same, how it would fluctuate back and forth between calm almost delicate notes to powerful, tragic chords where it sounded as if the keys were being smashed. Draco had that same duality, seemingly fragile at some moments and then this dark, seductive creature the next. He could believe the boy was a vampire, though he had felt those teeth enough to recognize any fangs.

As if summoned by the mere thought of him, the door appeared to allow the blond to walk in. When he shut the door behind him, it vanished, leaving only bare stone. He made no other movements forward however. Harry felt the distance keenly.

"I take it you got my note?"

"Obviously."

Oh, right. "I wanted to apologize...for those things I said in the Owlery. I didn't mean them. I didn't mean to hurt you." That wasn't right. "Well, no, I did, but I regret it." He had known exactly what he was doing. He just wanted to lash out at someone, and Draco had been in the right place at the wrong time.

He waited, but Draco didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry for disarming you like that."

His lips quirked, but he couldn't tell if they were pulling up or down. "It's a terrible blow to a wizard's pride to be disarmed, especially by a friend. There is only one recourse." Suddenly, the room shifted and Harry stumbled to his feet as the bed he had been sitting on disappeared. The room elongated, and a long rug depicting the phases of the moon rose up from the floor. He recognized it from his second year. "A duel should heal such wounds."

"I say sorry for fighting and you want to fight?"

Draco smirked. "It seems to be how we communicate best."

That didn't sound like a particularly healthy relationship, but he really was in no position to deny the boy anything at the moment. So he took his place at the far end of the rug on the new moon, wand out. Draco took his place on the opposing new moon, his wand held up in front of him. "What say we raise the stakes, hmm?"

"You want to bet on it? Fine, you want to choose the music during D.A. meetings, then?"

He smiled at that, which lessened Harry's anxiety somewhat. "Yes, but aside from that, how about the loser has to do whatever the winner says for the rest of the day?"

That seemed like a terrible idea, but Harry wasn't about to back down from a challenge. Besides, when he won, he could just order Draco to forgive him. "You're on, Malfoy," he said just as he had done that day.

Draco smirked in approval, and got into the traditional stance, wand pointed at him and arm curved in the air above his head. Harry mirrored his movements, and for a while, they merely stood there in tense silence. Then Draco moved with his entire body, shouting _"Expelliarmus!"_

But Harry had been expecting the revenge for that day, and he quickly deflected it. He hurled a Knockback Jinx that sent Draco flying backwards, but he quickly regained his footing and sent an orange-colored spell at him. Harry deflected it again, and threw another Knockback Jinx but it was avoided this time.

 _"Tarantellegra!"_ Unfortunately, this one hit Harry, and he was embarrassed to have suffered its effects again, just as he had done three years ago. He quickly muttered the countercurse before his toes could start tapping. If Draco hurled a serpent at him, then he would know that the stupid git hadn't learned anything since his second year. _"Ebublio!"_

Draco yelped as he found himself encased in a large bubble. He snarled and hurled a Reductor Curse, but the bubble held. Just as Harry was about to declare his victory, Draco used a Freezing Charm that turned the bubble to solid ice, which he then smashed to pieces. Harry found himself genuinely impressed. He didn't think he'd seen anyone use that method to escape the Ebublio Jinx before.

 _"Rictusempra!"_ He wouldn't give the blond time to recover. Purple hands shot out of his wand and began to tickle his sides, sending Draco into fits of laughter.

Harry had been so stunned by his handsome face contorted in glee that he didn't block Draco's incoming curse through his giggles. His fingers suddenly flopped as if they had lost all of their bones (a sensation Harry knew from experience) and he dropped his wand. Growling, he struggled to pick up his wand with his palms, since his fingers were now completely useless. Luckily, Draco still suffered under the effects of his Tickling Charm, and so was too busy laughing to hit Harry now that he was vulnerable.

Performing his wand movements with two hands instead of one was difficult, so when he tried to use the Full-Body Bind on his opponent, it didn't work. Also unfortunate, his charm appeared to be wearing off, the purple hands fading into nonexistence. Draco smirked at him in triumph and waved his wand at him. _"Calorenum!"_

A warmth tickled down his body from head to toe and while Harry sat there, feeling his heart swell at the feel of the Warming Charm embracing his body, Draco waved his wand again and Harry's wand flew out of his hand and into the Slytherin's. He blinked rapidly, feeling the curse on his fingers wear off and he curled them.

"You always were a sentimental fool," Draco said fondly.

"Who's the one who thought to use it?"

"Then I guess we're both fools." He walked over to Harry and handed him back his wand. It felt good to hold it again. There was always a tiny amount of panic when his wand was taken from him. "So, how does it feel to have to take orders from a fool, Harry?"

He groaned. He'd forgotten about that part. "What is it that you want?"

The room shifted around them and they were back in their bedroom, but this time the color scheme was noticeably Slytherin. And now, instead of two dragons on the tapestry, there was only the silver one, swirling around a phoenix. "I want you on your knees."

A tingling heat that had nothing to do with the Warming Charm enveloped him. Before he even knew what he was doing, his knees hit the hardwood floor, and he looked up at Draco. He walked-- no, he strutted up to him, looking down his nose haughtily. It shouldn't have been endearing. It should have repulsed him as the look used to do, but his throat dried up.

"We're going to do what we should have done that day." He spoke in the same condescending drawl his father did, and it turned his stomach pleasantly. He could just imagine a silver crown resting lopsided on top of his head, lounging on a high-backed throne. Distantly, he remembered the taunt the Slytherins had come up for Ron. A pale hand came up to Harry's hair, trailing down his temple in a loving pet. He stretched towards it, suddenly wanting more of that cool touch on his hot skin. Draco smirked at his eagerness. "Good boy."

He gasped, the words as good as a kiss. Draco's keen silver eyes narrowed in on the widening of his pupils. "Praise kink, hmm, Potter?" He rolled his name on his tongue as if to savor the flavor of it. They had never done this before, introduced play into their intimate moments together. It had always been about sweet exploration and pleasure for pleasure's sake. This was something completely different, and it should rankle him, should make him want to buck and rebel. Instead, he felt like craning his neck in a sign of submission.

He licked his lips, and Draco zeroed in. He mirrored the movement, and Harry suddenly realized exactly where his head was in relation to Draco. "I've noticed something about you, Harry." His hand continued to downright fondle his head, smoothing over his flushed cheeks and carding through his hair languorously. "You tend to lash out when you think someone is trying to control you, to push you down. You thrash about and throw a fit, when deep down, you hate independence. You yearn for someone else to take the reigns for a while, to _give in."_

Harry's breath came out more heavily now. He struggled inside to fight against these words, to ignore the kernel of truth inside of them, but the hand on his face suddenly grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at Draco, and his eyes fluttered at the look he saw there. The haughty Slytherin prince was hidden behind the caring and fragile boy Harry had come to know. "You bear so much, Harry. Let the world foist its hopes and discontent onto you and let it eat you up inside. Let me bear that burden for a while. Let go of your control and give it to me. Let me take care of you."

Harry wanted to cry, which he stopped himself from doing. He didn't want to ruin the moment, and he had a good idea what was about to come next. "Yes," he said with no air.

The haughty prince returned with a teasing smirk. "Say 'yes, my lord.'"

He almost wanted to gasp at the scandalous nature of it. It felt sacrilegious and it made his entire body stand at attention. Figuratively, of course, for his knees were still firmly on the floor. "Yes, milord."

He could practically feel the vibrations in the air between them from Draco's shudder. His eyes burned bright, the flames of the fireplace reflected in them. His hand clenched his hair almost painfully, bringing his head just that little bit closer to his crotch. "Pleasure me."

Harry bit his lip to keep from moaning out loud. Eagerly, his hands drifted up to reach for the fly of Draco's trousers, but a hand swatted them away. "No. No hands." He knew what Draco intended and his nostrils flared, soaking in the scent of the boy so close to him.

Hesitantly, he let the fingers in his hair pull him closer until he was nosing the growing bulge. He pushed the hem of his jumper up just enough to reveal the fastenings to his trousers. He glared at the button in frustration. It proved a bit of a challenge, but with some careful tongue work, he managed to push it through the hole, exposing the slider of his zipper. He bit the pull tab and tugged it down, all the while keeping his eyes locked on Draco's. The boy groaned loudly at the sight, his hips minutely pushing closer to him. This close, he could smell Draco's arousal and it clouded his mind like a particularly heady wine. His knees rubbed together.

With a dry gulp, he pushed his trousers open, revealing dark grey snug briefs. He pulled the elastic band into his mouth and tugged them down. Draco's erection sprang free already hard and standing proudly in a nest of blond curls. He nosed at his hair, still amazed at how soft it was compared to Harry's own. Draco moaned low in his throat, and Harry had the strange sensation of feeling the vibrations from where his face touched his groin. This time, the pelvic thrust was intentional, an order to move on with it.

So he wrapped his mouth around the red tip and licked it with his tongue. Draco growled and pushed his prick in further until the entire head was in his mouth. Instead of getting angry at Draco for moving without any warning, it sent his blood crashing down south. The mental image of Draco fucking his mouth, of taking his pleasure from Harry's willing body assaulted his brain, and he moaned around the cock in his mouth.

"Ah--Harry!" Draco threw his head back, his adam's apple bobbing enticingly and Harry wanted so badly to kiss it, but now there were two hands tugging at his hair sharply and he couldn't move from this spot even if he wanted to. He opened his mouth wider, forced it to relax and sunk his head down as far as it would go. The tip didn't even reach the back of his throat before his gag reflex kicked in, but he pulled back quick enough to prevent himself from choking. Then he did it again, going down as far as he could before pulling back quickly. He set a fierce rhythm, his eyes burning from the strain of his mouth, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. All he could think about was giving Draco pleasure, of forcing those sounds out of his mouth.

"Merlin, look at you," Draco sighed, his hips trembling with the effort to keep them from thrusting roughly. "Your pretty little lips stretched wide around my cock... Your mouth was made for sucking cock, Harry." He had always been a talkative lover, but he'd never really gotten so into the dirty talk before. "I bet you'd let me just fuck your mouth, wouldn't you? Such a dirty little slut."

The words felt like a punch to the gut, and he pulled back. Draco realized his mistake quickly though, and his fingers released his hair to pet it gently. "Sorry, sorry. Praise kink. Forgot." His petting eased the sting of those words, and so Harry left his prick to sink down and lick at his scrotum. Now Draco sounded like he had just been punched. Those hands tightened on his head again. "Yesssss." For a startling moment, Harry thought he had been speaking Parseltongue, and wasn't that just the hottest thing he could think of? "Just like that, Harry. Good boy."

It was shameful how good the simple compliment made him feel. He arched his back like a purring cat, moaning behind closed lips. In gratitude, he took one of his balls into his mouth and sucked. Never before did Harry think he'd actually enjoy dancing a bloke's sack on his tongue, but Draco had introduced him to all sorts of firsts. His prick was rubbing against face, leaving precum on his forehead, on his scar, and some bestial thing inside of him thought of it as Draco staking his claim over Voldemort's.

His hands clambered for his own zipper, but a sharp tug on his hair pulled his head back to force him to look at Draco. "No. No hands, remember?"

"But--" Harry whined.

"No. You'll get to come when I say you can. You have no control, remember? All of you, even your orgasms, belong to me."

'Yes, yes,' Harry's body shouted. 'All yours. Always yours.' It scared him a little, how much he was enjoying this, letting someone wield this much power over him. And truthfully, if it had been anyone else, he would have left already, but he trusted Draco even more than he trusted himself. When had he become a slave to this boy?

"If you're a good boy and make me feel good, I'll let you come."

He nodded eagerly. Too eagerly, Draco's grin said, but he couldn't hold back anymore and pounced on his prick like a man starving. Draco buckled over at his roughness, cradling Harry's head tight to him, as his hips undulated of their own accord, and Harry did nothing to stop them. In fact, he moaned loudly and widened his mouth further, actively encouraging Draco to use him as he saw fit. The blond choked and his thrusting grew in power and speed, the tip of his cocking teasing the back of Harry's throat but he refused to gag. He wanted Draco to have the most mind-bogling, powerful blow job in the history of man so he couldn't think of anything but Harry's mouth. Harry's, no one else's.

"Harry, Harry, I'm about to-- I'm gonna..." His words were breathy and barely audible, but Harry soaked them in. He resisted the urge to nod, as that would likely not feel good on the cock in his mouth. So he moaned loudly, wantonly. "I want you to swallow it. All of it." Draco's voice had taken on that gravelly edge that signalled his orgasm, and in one final thrust, he seated himself all the way to the hilt, Harry's lips brushing the cold zipper of his trousers. His back arched into almost a ninety degree angle, his cry echoing through the empty chamber. Harry gagged around the cock, but managed to keep everything down as hot, salty liquid squirted past his tongue and directly down his throat. He fought down a pleasured scream, knowing that wouldn't help with the whole choking situation, and swallowed around the cock, which made Draco's cry increase in pitch.

After what felt like forever, Draco pulled out, a long line of spit and cum connecting the tip of his softening cock to Harry's mouth. He swallowed the last remnants of Draco's cum and felt proud of himself when he didn't vomit. It sat like a heavy weight in his stomach, and the thought of some part of Draco remaining inside him caused his hips to jerk.

"Good boy," Draco hissed. "Now bring yourself off."

Without further prodding, he quickly pulled his cock out. It was painfully hard and leaking profusely, and his balls were already pulled tight. At that moment he was filled with the all consuming need to go all the way with Draco, whatever that entailed. All it took was Draco watching him pump himself, and a whispered "come for me, Harry," and he shot his cum all over the floor and Draco's shoes. His orgasm was so intense that as soon as his prick stopped twitching he crumbled to the floor in a sloppy mess. Draco fell on top of him, and snogged him senseless. Their overly sensitive cocks, still hanging out of their trousers like a couple of perverts on the tube, brushed together and they both moaned in exquisite pain.

Panting, Draco pulled off of him, not really ready to go another round, which Harry was grateful for. That had been so intense, he knew he was spent for the day. The blond flopped on the hard floor to his left, grunting at how uncomfortable it was, but both of them were too tired to climb into the bed.

"Well," Harry finally said as soon as he got his breathing under control. "That was eye opening."

"Didn't know you were a kinky bastard, did ya?" Draco teased, his chest not heaving nearly as much as it had been before.

"You're one to talk. What was with all that 'my lord' business?"

Draco's cheeks reddened to an even darker shade, and he turned his head slightly away. "It's this fantasy I've had... I become the most powerful wizard in Britain, defeat Voldemort, and take you as my willing prize."

Harry couldn't stop himself from snorting. "So you become a benevolent dark lord and me your devoted love slave?"

He got a kick to the ankle, but he only laughed instead. "Shut it. I'm allowed to fantasize about whatever I want when I'm wanking."

"Why are you wanking when you have me?"

"We can't always be together, unfortunately. If I had my way, we'd have a period in between every class for snogging."

"You'd wring me dry. I'd die from over exertion."

"But what a way to go, huh?"

They laughed, their pricks still hanging out, lying on a cum smeared hard floor, but Harry didn't want to be anywhere else. Eventually the warm high wore off and they had to clean up their mess. With the afterglow gone, Harry's mind turned contemplative.

He fruitlessly tried to flatten his hair, and said, "Why did you forgive me so easily?"

Draco paused in buckling his belt and looked at him.

"I-I mean, well, I hurt you, didn't I? Shouldn't you make me grovel a bit more?"

Draco didn't answer immediately, just stared at the tapestry of the dragon and the phoenix. "All couples fight, and now I know the next time you're being a giant pissbaby, I just have to duel you into submission."

Harry frowned. "I don't want to duel you every time we get into a fight." That sounded like a recipe for disaster, especially with his temper as volatile as it was. One of them was going to do something permanent eventually.

"So what? You expect me to make you beg more? Make you carry my books and shine my shoes? I hate every minute that we're apart, why would I extend that?" He huffed. "Honestly, I'm surprised it's you cocking it up and not me."

"I'm not. I'm a mess."

Draco gave him a grin. "True. A hot mess, though." He carried on as if the matter were settled, smiling happily. He might forgive him easily, but Harry wouldn't. He never wanted to see that look on Draco's face ever again.

 

* * *

 

Every time the High Inquisitor did something, she surprised Harry with a new level of scummy. With her new powers to evaluate and dismiss teachers, she had every legal right to sack Professor Trelawney. But to do so publicly right outside the front of the castle... He may not have enjoyed Divinations, but she didn't deserve that. Beside him, the Patil twins were bawling openly, and Harry couldn't fault them for it. After all, with the way Hagrid's evaluation had gone, he just might be next.

"H-Hogwarts is my home," Trelawney sobbed, pushing her large coke bottle glasses out of the way to wipe her eyes with a ratty handkerchief. Harry's heart broke for this poor woman, and he wondered if he were to just transfigure Umbridge into a rabbit and then feed her to Buckbeak, if anyone would turn him in.

Umbridge smiled from ear-to-ear. "Not anymore."

"I'm afraid you are mistaken there, Dolores." Dumbledore's arrival was so quiet and unassuming that even the students standing next to him jumped in surprise. He walked up to the crying woman, silvery blue robes trailing behind, and wrapped the woman in a half embrace comfortingly. "Sybill, gather your things and return them to your room," he said to her softly, though with the hush of the crowd, everyone heard. She grasped his hands in reverent thanks, kissing his knuckles before picking up her trunks. The Patil twins rushed to help her.

Umbridge still had that poisoned honey smile. "You seem to have forgotten, Dumbledore, that as High Inquisitor--"

"You have the right to dismiss my teachers, but not to remove them from the premises. That power still resides with the headmaster."

She sent him a scathing glare that said _for now._

"And I believe that unless I find a replacement, you may choose. You are fortunate then that I have already taken the liberty of replacing our dear Trelawney with a dear friend of mine, Firenze. Now you need not trouble yourself to find a suitable replacement." At his words, the gates to the courtyard flew open and in trotted the centaur Harry had met all those years ago. He still looked much the same, stoic and majestic, his long silver-blond hair trailing behind him like a mane. Harry was starting to wonder if it was for mainly that reason alone that he had liked the centaur so much, given his current proclivities.

Umbridge looked like she very well might pop a blood vessel, so murderous was her countenance. Her dislike of "half-breeds" was no mystery, and Harry wondered if Dumbledore had chosen the centaur on purpose or if he had just been conveniently located.

With the matter settled, everyone returned to the castle. Harry rushed to catch up to Dumbledore, calling out his name, but still the headmaster ignored him. He had thought, after he was scheduled for Occlumency lessons, that the old wizard would trust him. It made his hackles rise but he tried to brush it off. No need to work himself up like he had done before Christmas.

Instead, he found Dean making his way towards the library, talking animatedly with Lee Jordan, likely over that spectacle. He waved him down, and the dark-skinned boy looked up with a smile. "Hey, Dean, could I have a word?"

"Sure, Harry, you can have any word you like: apple, bird, poppycock--"

He sent him a withering glare while Lee chuckled next to him. "I was wanting to talk to you about a...er, private matter."

Dean looked curious, so he sent Lee on ahead, walking with Harry to a more private alcove. He didn't really want to talk about this in the hallways, but their dormitory was more likely to be overheard. So he hunched over and whispered, "Do you know how guys have sex?"

To his credit, Dean didn't run away, although he looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Well, I know the logistics of it, but, uh, Seamus and I haven't gone that far yet. We're, er, saving for a special occasion. Wait, have you and Draco already--"

"No, no, no, well, not yet. I want us to, but uh, this is all very new to me. I didn't even know there was more, but Draco says there is."

"Sorry," Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "Can't help you there, mate, but I do know someone who can. Or well, someones. The Weasley twins are, shall we say, very knowledgeable in this area."

"Wait, Fred and George are gay?"

Dean looked at him like he was stupid. "No, of course not. They're bisexual."

"Bisexual? What's that?"

He really wished he'd stop doing double-takes at him. That had to hurt his neck. "Did you live under a rock or something?" A cupboard, actually. "That means you're attracted to both genders."

"Wait, you can like both?" Harry said far too loudly, and drew the attention of Sir Nick floating by.

"Of course you can. It's not like there's any rules for this kind of thing. Wow, you're really sheltered, aren't you?"

Harry had never thought of himself as sheltered, but he did seem to be ignorant about too many things. Thanking Dean, he went off in search of the twins. He found them coming back from Quidditch practice, swinging their bats around while singing some tune horribly off-key. They paused for a moment when they saw him, likely understanding what the sight of a Quidditch uniform did for his temper nowadays, but he found that the dark cloud didn't threaten him. He was on a mission after all.

"Hello, Gred. Hello Feorge," he greeted them, using their nicknames for each other.

They looked at each other curiously before stopping in front of him. "Well if it isn't our sweet little Harry."

"Our brother of another mother."

"How can we be of service today?"

Harry was starting to think this might be a bad idea. The twins were not the most subtle of wizards, and were nearly as bad as Peeves when it came to taking the mickey out of someone. He probably shouldn't go to them with such sensitive matters, but he didn't know who else to ask. He looked around at the remnants of the Quidditch team slunking off to the changing rooms. Ron shot him a confused, but happy wave, and he waved back. "Could I ask you two something? Something private?"

They shrugged, and hung back by the stands. Once everyone had cleared out and Harry felt them sufficiently alone, he drew up his courage and asked, "How do two blokes have sex?"

The twins immediately broke into salacious grins. Harry wanted to take their bats and beat them over the head. Or himself, which ever made this horror end quicker. "I always knew this day would come," George said to his twin.

"So the Malfoy prat hasn't been satisfying you, has he?"

"Well, you've come to the right place."

"No, wha-- NO! I wasn't propositioning you two!" He hid his face in his hands. He'd just have to buckle down and ask Hermione to help him research it. Surely there was some kind of sex-ed book in the library, right?

"Calm down, Harry--"

"--we were only teasing you."

"You're not our type anyway."

"Too specky."

"Look, I can just go." But before he could do more than turn around two sets of arms were slung around his shoulders, keeping him in place.

"Oh calm down there, you fainting violet."

"We'll teach you all about the birds and the bees."

"Or just bees in this case."

"It's quite simple really."

And then they proceeded to spill all manner of filthy things to him, and Harry fluctuated between grossed out, fascinated, and wanting to die. When they offered to show him some diagrams, he bid a hasty farewell and fled the Quidditch pitch.

 

* * *

 

_"Merry Christmas, Draco."_

_"It's nearly February."_

"Stop it!" Harry yelled, ashamed that he was about to cry. "Get out of my head!"

"Then push me out, Potter. Stop sitting around crying and do something about it." Snape flicked his wand and once more dove through his head.

_He ran for his cupboard, the only space where Uncle Vernon's fists could not reach him, but his head was still jumbled from the cuff he had received earlier and he hit the corner of the plastered wall and was sent tumbling onto the polished floor. His hands took the brunt of the blow and hurt terribly, but he forgot all about the pain in his hands when a large hand wrapped around his ankle and pulled him back with a scream--_

"Please, stop it!" He was actively crying now. He had completely (wilfully) forgotten about that incident.

Snape lowered his wand, looking so incredibly repulsed by his weakness. He turned away, unable to even look at Harry now, apparently. "We're done for today." And he left his office before Harry could.

 

* * *

 

True to his word, he let Draco pick the music for the next DA meeting. It was a fun and bouncy waltz that reminded Harry of dancing snowflakes. Everyone had expected Draco to pick some boring and austere song, but this was fun and had a lot of kids smiling.

"Ok, so today we're going to learn the Patronus Charm." A lot of people cheered. It was an impressive bit of magic, and fun, no doubt, so he could see why it was popular. In fact, they had been bugging him about learning it since they started this study group. "Does anyone know what the Patronus Charm does? Yes, Luna."

She dropped the hand she had been holding up. "It is used to drive away Dementors."

"Yes, very good. You can also use the corporeal form to send recorded messages of your voice." A lot of students widened their eyes. Not many people knew that factoid. "Now it doesn't just drive away Dementors, it acts as a decoy for them to feed off of, instead of yourself. And what do Dementors feed off of?"

"Oh, I know this one!" Lavender jumped excitedly. "Professor Lupin taught it to us. Um, they feed off of happiness, so that's why you always feel sad when they are around."

Harry stopped himself from granting her points. He was letting this faux teaching position get to his head. "Exactly. If a Dementor feeds on you long enough, they can suck every positive thought and feeling from your very soul, leaving only the worst memories." Wait, what if that was what happened to the witch that fell in love with the Siren? The story had said that the kelpie had taken her heart, but what if it had just used a Dementor? That would explain the eternally frozen pond, as ice followed Dementors wherever they went. What if the witch had been turned into a Dementor and now lay at the bottom of that pond?

A nudge to his side alerted him that he had been contemplating for too long, and so he hastily continued. "Ah, yes, right. So...the Patronus Charm, yes. So in order to produce the charm you need a happy memory, a powerful memory. You move your wand like so," he moved his wand in a wide circle, "and you say _Expecto Patronum._ " The others mimicked him muttering the incantation. He had to lift up a couple of arms and instruct a few people to enunciate, but for the most part they seemed to have grasped it. "Good. Now spread out and practice. It's alright if you don't get it on the first try. This is difficult stuff."

They spaced themselves apart, filling up the practice room. Draco took his usual spot by Harry's side, and he burned with the curiosity of what his Patronus would look like. Probably some kind of snake.

At first, no one but Ginny seemed to be able to create anything more than silvery wisps. She smiled proudly, but a lot of the others were getting frustrated. He moved around them correcting mistakes as he saw them. "You need the happiest possible memory you can think of, something that is guaranteed to make you feel better. Let it fill you up." He adjusted Neville's arm so that it was straighter and moved with more confidence.

Soon, everyone had wisps, but it wasn't until he heard a chorus of gasps that he knew someone had made a breakthrough. He turned around to find Hermione dazzled by a silvery otter dancing around her head in a trail of bubbles. It fit her. "Great job, Hermione!" She flushed prettily under the praise. That appeared to have been the catalyst and after that, silvery animals began to fill the room. Luna's hare dashed around Cho's elegant swan which flew out of the way of Ginny's horse which was chasing Ron's dog. Fred's hyena and George's coyote bounced around each other playfully. Harry turned to Draco to find his face open in horror. Before him, with a silvery trail leading back to his wand was a single tiny butterfly flitting about mindlessly. The entire group stood still, watching him silently, before they all burst out into laughter.

"So that's your true self, is it, Malfoy?"

"I'm honestly surprised it wasn't a fairy."

"I bet that will send a whole pack of Dementors for the hills."

"I can't believe it's a butterfly. And not even a swarm of them, just one."

Harry stepped into the middle and quieted the laughter with a stern look. "Patronuses can only be one animal, and size does not represent strength. It's powered by the memory behind it."

"That's true," Hermione hastened to add. "According to legend, one of the most famous Patronuses ever conjured was by a wizard named Illyius. It was only a tiny field mouse but it saved his entire village from at least a hundred Dementors."

Draco smiled gratefully at them, but still canceled the spell to vanish his butterfly. Harry hated to see it go, knowing that it held all of Draco's secrets within.

"Oi, what about you, Harry," Seamus spoke up. "Let's see yours."

"I've seen it before," Hermione said. "Go on, Harry. It's really magnificent."

He gulped, remembering his horrible debacle over the summer. Would he still be able to produce a corporeal Patronus? "Er, right." The others stepped back to give him some space, forming a semicircle around him. He searched through his mind for a memory, and knew instantly which one he was going to use. He thought of snow-covered lashes and three whispered little words. _"Expecto Patronum."_

It happened in the blink of an eye. The Room suddenly expanded into a space even larger than the Quidditch Pitch, so that the walls and the ceiling were too far away to see. The others jumped back in surprise, and good thing too, for huge silvery wisps larger than a centaur, burst out from his wand. He quickly veered it up and away from others, and the wisps congealed into a long, winged serpentine body. A couple of girls screamed in shock as a full-sized dragon shot up into the air and circled around them.

"Bloody hell!"

"I know what that is!"

"We all do, Ron, it's a bloody dragon."

"No, you tit, that's an Antipodean Opaleye. My brother Charlie studied one on the reservation in Romania. They're really rare."

"Figures Potter would have a rare Patronus."

Harry turned to Hermione in confusion. "No, it's a stag. It's supposed to be a stag." She had seen his Patronus firsthand.

"It's uncommon, but in some cases Patronuses can change. They are a representation of your fundamental self, so if you've changed, then your Patronus changes. For instance, there are cases of people who contract lycanthropy suddenly gaining a wolf Patronus, or in some cases, between soul mates..." Her eyes flickered over his shoulder. He turned around to find Draco gaping at him, his face as red as Luna's earrings. The dragon landed just outside of their little gathering, staring at Harry with its starry, pupil-less eyes.

With a resounding crack Dobby appeared in between the two of them. His sudden appearance shocked everyone and all of the Patronuses vanished. "Harry Potter, sir... Dobby has come to warn you!" Draco made a small noise, and Harry realized that this house-elf had once served him.

"Warn me about what?"

"She is coming! She knows!" Dobby wrung his hands, but the several mittens that he wore made it more like he were slapping himself. He knew of only one "she" that could elicit such fear in Dobby.

Biting back a curse, he pulled out the Marauder's Map from his back pocket, which he brought with him to all D.A. meetings for such an occasion. He pulled it open and quickly tapped it with his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The ink appeared and he saw a group of names headed his way. Umbridge, Filch, Parkinson, Crabbe, and a Marietta Edgecombe? Oh, right, Cho's friend who had stopped coming a couple weeks ago. He hesitated for a moment. The Room kept them hidden, but only if one didn't know what they were searching for. If Umbridge knew about the Room of Requirement, then they were all doomed. He looked up. "RUN!"

With shrieks and yelps and everyone flew into a panic, racing for the suddenly appearing exit. Dobby snapped out of existence and Hermione tried to keep things orderly, but fear ran rampant. Harry was the last one to leave, and when he did he could see the pink monstrosity leading her gang up to him, wand drawn. He made a dash for it, map clutched tightly in his fingers, but he only took a couple of steps before a Leg-Locker Curse sent him crashing into the floor. Draco, who had just been ahead of him skidded to a halt and turned to look at him.

"No! Go! Leave me!"

"I can't leave you behind," Draco protested. Figures he'd choose now of all times to play the hero. Either way, the choice was decided for him when magical ropes shot out of Umbridge's wand and wrapped tightly around him so that he fell and landed hard on his side.

The High Inquisitor stood over them victoriously. "Excellent job, Parkinson. Fifty points to Slytherin. I want you and Crabbe to search the rest of the castle for anyone who appears out of breath." The two nodded before dashing off, wands drawn. "Now, up, on your feet Potter. You too, Malfoy." She undid their magical bindings and they got to their feet. Behind her, he could see Marietta, though she didn't look at him. Across her forehead in large boils was the word SNEAK. Hermione's enchantment worked, he took it. Brilliant witch.

"And what's that?" She snatched the map out of his hands before he could protest. "A map?" With growing horror he realized that he hadn't been able to recite the password to turn it off. "I'll have to confiscate this." She waved it in front of him with glee. "Now it's off to the Headmaster's office. Go on now." She prodded Harry in the back with her wand, and similarly out of the corner of his eye, he caught Filch shoving Draco forward roughly. Gritting his teeth, he stepped forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Harry hears in the Room is Chopin's Ballade No. 1 in g minor ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wgPh3mSYf0M ). It's one of my piano pieces ever (and I really like the violin/piano duo version from Your Lie In April).
> 
> The song Draco picks is The Skater's Waltz by Émile Waldteufel ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zirn3M3ewQc ).


	8. The Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "GET OUT!" Snape's voice snapped him back to reality. Harry cowered on the chair, feeling tears that were not his own fall down his cheeks. He'd never seen Snape so angry, and he just barely managed to dodge an incoming glass bottle that shattered on the chair where he had once been. "GET OUT! GET OUT THIS INSTANT!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry has a very active imagination. I wonder if that's a skill he got from the Dark Lord?

Harry struggled against Kingsley's hand on his shoulder. He didn't know what he would do if the Auror wasn't holding him back, but he knew he had to stop Dumbledore from what he was about to do. "Dumbledore, no!"

"As you can see, it says _Dumbledore's Army_ , not _Potter's Army_. Tonight was to be our first meeting. I, and I alone, hold full responsibility."

Fudge looked like he had just eaten his namesake. He clasped his hands delightfully in front of him. "So you admit it! Weasley, did you get a full confession written down?"

Percy nodded, pen scribbling quickly across his notepad. "Yessir, I think, sir." Harry had never felt more betrayed.

"I came here to expel Potter, but now I get to send you to Azkaban." Fudge beamed.

"No," Harry cried again, but Draco had kicked him in the shin and sent him a hard glare. He just couldn't let Dumbledore take the fall for his stupid idea.

"Ah," Dumbledore held up his finger as if an idea had just come to him, and he rounded his desk towards the perch where Fawkes roosted. "You seem to be laboring under the impression that I will-- what is the phrase-- come quietly. I have no intention of going to Azkaban." The Ministry people pulled out their wands, and McGonagall gasped. Dumbledore glanced at Harry to give him a wink before he latched onto Fawke's golden tail feather and the two of them disappeared in a flash of fire.

 

* * *

 

They sat around the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall quietly. Most people didn't know yet that Dumbledore was now a wanted fugitive all because Harry had been too shortsighted to realize what a bad idea their little club was. And they had to name it Dumbledore's Army, out of some misguided sense of loyalty.

"Look at this," Neville's soft voice was loud in the gloomy silence. He held up a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ , and Harry scowled at the foul newspaper. "Umbridge has replaced Dumbledore."

Harry reached for the newspaper glaring at the picture of Umbridge beaming proudly next to the Minister. So that's where she's been.

"Can't say I'm surprised," Ron grumbled, pushing around his mash with a fork. "That's been her goal all along, hasn't it?"

Hermione was livid. "They raised such a fuss that Dumbledore was trying to steal Fudge's position, and now here they are doing that very same thing to Dumbledore."

'And it's all my fault,' Harry thought to himself. Sure, Hermione might have come up with the idea, but he had allowed it to happen.

"But there's no way Dumbledore could be caught, right?" Draco spoke up hopefully. "I mean, he's a strange old coot, but he is a powerful wizard."

"I can't imagine him allowing himself to be imprisoned," Hermione answered. The old headmaster had seemed so omnipotent and untouchable. Even being evicted from his office seemed impossible, but Harry couldn't imagine him going to Azkaban. It made him wonder if everyone put too much stock on Dumbledore to save them all. For the first time, he felt truly afraid. What was to stop Voldemort from just waltzing in and killing him? His bangers suddenly didn't look very appetizing. 

 

* * *

 

Harry waited until he was absolutely positive the other boys were asleep. He cast one last look at the little dollhouse ("our son"), before he cast his Silencing Charm and a Sticking Charm to keep his bed curtains closed. It's not like all of them hadn't performed this ritual before, but Harry was afraid of someone catching him in this new act. Breathing loudly through his nose, he pointed his wand at himself, and whispered, _"Venter Mundi."_

It startled a gasp out of him, the strange sensation of feeling suddenly empty down there that left a tingling in parts of his body he had never really felt before. Harry had balked when Fred had taught him the Magical Enema spell, but the thought of sticking his fingers up there when it was still dirty was much more disgusting. How did this thought even occur to people? Still, George said it was the greatest feeling in the world.

He pulled back the covers and wiggled out of his pants. His prick sat soft in between his legs. He had to relax. They had stressed the importance of that the most. With a shaking sigh, he lifted up his shirt, and put the hem of it in his mouth to keep it up and out of the way, but also to muffle his sounds. He may have used a Silencing Charm, but he didn't want to hear himself.

Slowly, as if this was his first time all over again, he drew his now free hands up his stomach and over his chest. He moved them all around, pretending they were paler, softer hands. When his fingers brushed over his nipples, he bit down harder on his shirt, soaking it through with saliva. He closed his eyes and pictured Draco above him as he had looked that night of the Yule Ball, with his hair partially slicked back so that a few tantalizing hairs covered his left eye. He could hear the snakes down his back hissing in delight, and his dark dress robes still looked immaculate. He pinched his nipple, and suddenly a delicate silver crown appeared on his head.

 _"I'm a prince of Slytherin,"_ fantasy Draco whispered huskily to him from rosy red lips. _"I take what I want."_ He moved his hands up his abdomen, ghosting his nipples teasingly, to snake around his neck, thumbs caressing his jawline. _"And I want you."_

Harry gasped, eyelashes fluttering. Opening his mouth had caused his shirt to fall down and Draco returned it there. _"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Potter. Be a good boy and keep that in your pretty little mouth. Wouldn't do for anyone to hear you, now would it?"_

Harry shook his head with a moan, but made sure to keep his jaw locked firmly so as not to mess up again. Draco smirked down at him, pleased with his obedience, and that sent the first stirrings of life down to his groin. He went back to trailing his hands lovingly across his chest, his silver eyes widened with fascination and arousal. _"You're the most exquisite creature I've ever laid eyes on."_ Harry burned under the praise, turning his head to the side in shyness, but never dropping the shirt from his mouth. " _And you're mine."_ He punctuated his claim by grabbing hold of Harry's hardening cock. _"No one else can have you. Not even Voldemort himself can take you from me."_

'Yes,' Harry thought, unable to speak. 'All yours. I belong to you.' His hands, Draco's hands, pumped his cock, and his hips lifted a little to chase that feeling.

 _"Such a sweet little thing,"_ Draco cooed, and Harry reveled in it. He felt the words wash over him like hot water. His toes curled and he pumped himself harder, but the dryness of his hand was starting to chafe. Draco noticed too, and stopped. This wasn't about pain. It was about pleasure. _"You know what it is we need?"_

Harry nodded enthusiastically, reaching under his pillow for that tube the twins had given him. He quickly popped the cap and poured a small amount over his cock. Not too much, he didn't have a lot and he needed to save the rest for the main event. The lubricant was teasingly cold on his engorged flesh, and he felt it twitch. Barely managing to close the cap, he dropped the tube next to his head and moved to grab his cock again, but something stopped him.

Draco held his hand. _"Beg for it."_

He whined through his nose. 'Please, please, I need it.'

_"I'm not convinced."_

'Oh, please, my prince, please, I need you.'

Draco smiled. _"You beg so prettily, darling."_ And then he finally grabbed hold of his cock and went straight to pumping it in a steady rhythm. The slide was glorious, frictionless, and wet. His hips undulated shamelessly, practically fucking his hand. Just as he felt that tidal wave of sensation cresting, the hand disappeared, and he damn near sobbed at the loss.

_"Not yet. There's something we have to do first."_

He wanted to cry for release, but he knew Draco was right. They had a mission to accomplish. His hands trembling, he reached for the lube and poured a generous amount on his hand. He rubbed the substance between his fingers, wondering at the viscosity of it.

_"You know what you must do now, my pet?"_

He nodded his head and tentatively reached down for his arse. He ran his middle finger between the crack and over his entrance. It tickled in a delightful way and he did it again. He had never thought to touch this part of himself before and the forbidden nature of it made him squirm. Bracing himself, he pushed the tip of his finger in. It slid in surprisingly easily, but, Merlin, did it feel tight, and strange. It didn't hurt, necessarily, just felt weird, so he pushed his finger in a little further, and nothing had ever gone in that direction before and he still couldn't grasp whether this was good or not.

_"That's it, my love. Try moving it around a little bit."_

He nodded, even though his eyes were closed now, focusing on this new sensation in his arse. He pulled his finger back out a little and that pulled a sigh from him as well, then he pushed back in and felt the tight rings of muscle contract around him.

 _"You must relax, my love, my Harry."_ He felt the ghost of lips at his temple, and felt the words muttered into his hair. _"Think of it as my finger plundering inside of you, exploring your deepest part."_

Harry did, picturing Draco's hands disappearing between his legs, and he opened them wider.

 _"Yesss, that's it, Harry. Open yourself up to me."_ His words were coming out in a hiss. No, not just any hiss, Parseltongue. His legs spread themselves as wide as they could go, and he felt his finger sink in deeper. He tried wiggling his finger around but it felt so tight down there. Even when he tried to go even deeper, the angle made it too difficult to get far. He whimpered, needing more, but not knowing how to get it.

_"Turn around. On your hands and knees."_

Harry obliged, removing his finger with a wet pop and turning around so that he was kneeling over his bed, his erection hanging down. This position left him so much more exposed and shivering. Biting his lip, he reached over his back and shoved his finger back in. It went in more easily this time.

_"Look at you, arse up in the air."_

Harry squirmed shamefully, but didn't stop the pistoning of his finger. It made lewd squelching noises that he delighted in. He found the thought of what he was doing more arousing than the act itself.

 _"Just imagine my cock in there."_ That was a lot bigger than a finger. Harry couldn't see how it would fit. He could feel a warm weight on his back and a hand snuck down to grab his leaking erection. _"Just imagine me taking you from behind, just like this, claiming you."_

'Yes!' Harry's head was thrashing about on his pillow and his hot breaths were puffed back at him. He was almost bent completely in half, his arse waving up in the air, pushing itself back onto his finger. 'Take me, Draco, take me. Oh, fuck me, please!' He had just enough sense to feel completely mortified at his thoughts, but couldn't stop his movements.

He could feel lips at his ear, and he heard those words, just as he had that day, _"I love you,"_ and he came undone. His cum splattered onto the bed beneath him and his legs trembled violently. With a red face, he realized that his finger was still up his arse. He pulled it out, shuttering at the feeling. His arsehole clenched at the loss, and Harry wondered just how more wanton he could get.

 

* * *

 

For the past few weeks, he had been dreaming of a long corridor of black tiles ending at a door. He could never seem to figure out how to open it, and it frustrated him. He just needed to get past that door and--

"You are not focusing," Snape spat at him. "Do you wish to die, Potter? Is that what this is? Do you wish to leave your mind open and vulnerable to the Dark Lord?"

"No, of course not."

"Then focus! Control your mind. Again."

Harry steeled himself, but it still hurt to have this blunt force tearing through his brain, ripping through his happy memories. And then he was in that corridor again, walking up to the black door, but this time it opened, it finally opened! And he could see into an infinite room lit with blue flames and rows upon rows of shelves holding what appeared to be no shortage of crystal balls. He felt intense happiness, searing glee, and his head hurt, but finally, finally--!

Snape pulled out of his mind, panting nearly as much as Harry was. "What in the devil was that?"

"That," Harry realized, "was the Department of Mysteries. What's inside there, professor?"

"Nothing you need concern yourself with. How long have you been dreaming of this place?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "For a while now. I've never opened the door before now."

Snape looked very much like he wanted to slap him upside the head, but instead he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you even realize why we are toiling through this, Potter? You are supposed to be shutting these visions out, not welcoming them in. You're going to get us all killed."

Guilt worked its way up his stomach, but he pushed it back down. He'd be damned if he'd let Snape of all people make him feel bad. "I'm trying, I swear. I can't do anything about it when I'm asleep."

"What of the exercises I instructed you to do before bed? Have you even attempted them at all?"

"I did! It's too hard."

"In case it has escaped your notice, life is hard." Snape was shouting at him now, his vitriol worked up to a new level. "While you sit here whinging and being lazy, people are out there dying, sacrificing their lives for you."

"I never asked them to! I never wanted any of this!"

"No one cares. Grow up and learn some responsibility for once. This is not a game."

"I know it isn't. I know." And he did, but Snape just couldn't seem to grasp how Harry felt. He was just a kid. He couldn't be expected to save the world, could he? He wished he could show Snape all the pain he kept inflicting on him. His anger rose to a boiling pitch.

"Then stop acting like a child and _control your mind."_ He raised his wand to hit him with another _Legilimens,_ but Harry raised his first and shouted, _"Protego!"_

He could feel the force of Snape's spell rebound and hit the professor himself. He had the strange sensation of diving into something solid and swimming through it as memories and feelings that weren't his assaulted him. _Cowering behind an armchair as a hook-nosed man shouted cruel words at a cowering woman, the delight of seeing an experiment go right for once, allowing himself to pat a small blond head affectionately, maybe he could move on...?_

_He stood in an elegant and austere parlor room, looking bleakly out the window at the rich sprawling Malfoy gardens. He didn't look at the humbled man, leaning heavily on his cane as if he actually needed it to walk._

_"Please, Severus, he's my only child, my heir."_

_"I will ensure that no harm befalls him, but you must understand that he can no longer undo his actions. If you and Narcissa are to remain alive, you must denounce him. Your loyalties are already in question."_

_Lucius froze, his hand trembling on the silver snake head of his cane. Severus knew that it concealed his wand, which was why the man never left it anywhere. He took no pleasure in seeing his old school pal humbled in this way. He had often loathed him, as he loathed everybody, but he knew this grief and would not wish it on anyone. "I never meant for any of this to happen..." He sounded so small, not like a grown man._

_"What did you think would happen?"_

_Lucius straightened a little, wrestling those unseemly emotions down. "I wanted a better world for the next generation. A world where magic could be free, where we wouldn't have to hide anymore, where we could rule as we are supposed to. But..coups are dirty, dangerous things. I never wanted Draco to get involved." Then his expression turned murderous. "If it weren't for that blasted Potter boy, it would have been done already, and Draco wouldn't have to suffer like this."_

_He wondered if Lucius knew about his son's crush on the "blasted Potter boy." Hogwarts gossip would hold little interest for a grown man, but something this big surely had to have reached the outside by now. The two of them had no subtlety._

_Lucius looked at him with watery silver eyes. "Just please, protect him where I cannot. If he's...killed, I'm afraid I'll lose Narcissa too." Some dark and bitter part of Severus almost wished it would happen, just so someone else could feel what it was like._

_The scene change suddenly and now he was a young boy of ten, looking at the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her eyes were a bright green, as green as magic, and her hair a fiery red. She had so much color, so much light, Severus couldn't look away. He saw her holding a flower bud gently in her palm, smiling in wonder as she caused it to float up and bloom. He knew then that she was just like him._

_Shyly, he picked up one of the fallen leaves of the twisted willow tree beside him, and willed it to flap at her like a bird. She gasped when it landed on top of her flower, and looked up at him with such wonder, the same look he had given her._

_Behind her, a horse-faced girl in a plain dress looked between the two of them fearfully. "You're a freak, Lily! I'm telling mum." And then she dashed away. Good, let the ugly Muggle girl leave them in peace._

_And then Severus was older, but still that sad, sallow-faced little boy. He clutched his books tightly to his chest, just wishing Potter and his horrible friends would leave him alone. The thought that James Potter was jealous of his friendship with Lily Evans did little to soothe the shameful splotches on his gaunt cheeks._

_"What's the matter, Snivellus?" Potter cackled, following him easily with his longer gait. "Are you scared?"_

_"Is he crying?" Black gasped in delight. "Remus, I think he's crying."_

_"You're terrible, Sirius." But the filthy werewolf did nothing to stop his stupid friends. He always made a show of disapproval but he was just as bad as them._

_"Don't turn your back on me, Snivellus!" Then his legs were lifting up into the air, and his books fell onto the ground below his upturned head. Potter pointed his wand at him, laughing evilly. A crowd had gathered and they all laughed and jeered, some were even chanting Potter's name like they were in a wrestling match. "Who wants to see me take off Snivellus' trousers?" The crowd cheered and Severus hated every single one of them._

_"James Potter, you put him down this instant!" To his horror, Lily Evans stomped up the hill with righteous fury. She was the last person he ever wanted to see him like this._

_"I will if you go on a date with me." The bastard had the gall to flirt with her now? Severus wished his wand had not fallen out of his pocket and out of reach, or he would have cursed Potter to kingdom come._

_Lily ignored the catcalls, and pointed her wand at him threateningly. "Now, Potter, or I'll report you to Professor Dumbldore. I'm already going to take house points as it is."_

_"Fine, fine." He looked amusingly put out, but he lowered his wand, and Severus crumpled to the ground._

_This was the worst. He wished the giant squid would rise out of the Black Lake and swallow up everyone here, mainly himself. He struggled to right himself. Quickly wiping hot tears from the corners of his eyes. A gentle hand on his shoulder startled him, and he whipped around to see Lily looking at him with pity. He slapped her hand away, leaping back. "I don't need help from a Mudblood like you!"_

_He could see the hurt in her beautiful eyes and felt it multiplied a thousand times in his chest. The crowd had fallen silent at his slur, and Lily's face hardened into a look he'd never seen before. "No, I--"_

_"I'm sorry for troubling you. It won't happen again." And then she left, walking out of his life forever._

"GET OUT!" Snape's voice snapped him back to reality. Harry cowered on the chair, feeling tears that were not his own fall down his cheeks. He'd never seen Snape so angry, and he just barely managed to dodge an incoming glass bottle that shattered on the chair where he had once been. "GET OUT! GET OUT THIS INSTANT!"

Harry ran out as fast as he could. What was so terrible wasn't the heartbreak he felt, that Snape had known his mother, or even that his aunt had really been that horrible all along, but that his father had been every bit the bully that Snape said he was. He felt like throwing up.

 

* * *

 

Walking down the hallway, hand-in-hand with Draco seemed more raunchy than their private activities. They received a couple of jeers, but Draco only held his hand more firmly, chin up. He wanted to show everyone that he was not afraid or ashamed, that it would be the best revenge to the Slytherins. Harry wholeheartedly supported that cause, but walking the walk was much more difficult than talking the talk.

"Erm, we're here now, Draco. You can let go of my hand."

He pouted rather cutely, and looked very much like he didn't want to, but he let his hand fall away. "Do you want me to wait for you?"

Harry's cheeks, already flushed with embarrassment, colored further. "I don't need you to babysit me, Draco! I can go to my Career Advice meeting on my own, thank you."

"I wasn't babysitting you, I just...wanted to be with you. With our O.W.L.s coming up, we've both been so busy studying, we haven't really spent much time together."

Harry's heart melted, but he had to be firm. He couldn't let those puppy eyes sway him again. "I'll see you at dinner, okay?"

Draco nodded glumly, and moved to turn away before pausing. After a moment's consideration, he gave Harry a quick peck on the lips and skipped off. Tricky little Slytherin. Smiling, he knocked on the door to McGonagall's office, entering after he was bid to come inside.

The Transfigurations professor looked up shrewdly from the parchment she had been hunched over, and set her quill down. "Ah, Mr. Potter, you're early."

He glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Only by a few minutes, ma'am."

"Yes, but in Potter time that is exceptionally early." She smiled to show her teasing was all in good fun and gestured for him to take a seat. When he did, she began, "Today is your Career Advice session. So, Potter, have you given any thought to what you might want to pursue after school."

His leg bounced nervously. "Well, I had originally thought I wanted to be an Auror. It just seemed like the obvious choice, you know?"

"And what have you decided on now?"

"Well, professor, I think I might want to go into teaching."

She blinked her eyes owlishly at him, which he found strange considering she was a cat Animagus. "Far be it from me to discourage my own profession, but what brought you to this conclusion?"

"Well, you know about the DA meetings, right?"

She nodded.

"I actually kind of enjoyed them. It was fun teaching everyone these new spells and watching them grow." He felt a bitter resentment that they had ended. Neville was just getting good.

Professor McGonagall smiled softly at him, a rare sight. "Those are excellent reasons, Mr. Potter. Many people choose teaching as a form of retirement, but there are some who felt the calling whilst still young. Headmaster Dumbledore, for instance, started teaching rather young."

Harry blinked at that. Of course, it seemed like all of his teachers had always been there, as much a part of the castle as the stone, but he knew logically that they had once had lives outside of school. "Yes, but I'm not so sure I want to start right away. I don't feel like I know enough to be a proper teacher. I was wanting to go out and get some more experience."

"Oh? That's exceptionally wise for one of your age. And am I to understand that the subject you wish to teach would be Defense Against the Dark Arts?" He nodded. "Then I would think Auror would be a good choice to gain experience."

He had thought so too, at first, but after seeing Kingsley in Dumbledore's office, following the Minister's orders, even though his true loyalty lay with the man he tried to arrest, he didn't want to be a Ministry dog, a soldier sent to do one man's bidding. The Ministry was not Voldemort by any stretch of the imagination, but he wanted the freedom to explore and help as he saw fit. Honestly, he wanted to keep doing what he'd been doing all these years. Solving mysteries with his friends. "Well, I was thinking rather more freelance work? Exploring the world and learning about Dark magic all over. A Curse-Breaker sounded nice. And after all, I do have experience." He grinned slyly at that.

McGonagall gave him a smile that said she got the joke, and adjusted her wire frames on her nose. "What a romantic notion, Mr. Potter, though I shouldn't be surprised it came from you. You certainly do have the savings to go exploring. This will not be a lucrative enterprise, you understand. You may be able to write a book with all the knowledge you gather, but you won't make any money until it is published."

He didn't really want to write a book. Maybe he could compile all of his information and give it to Hermione to write. He just wanted to face new challenges and help people. And hopefully, he'd have a companion at his side, though it was selfish of him to think so.

"Well then, I will do everything in my power to see that you are prepared. You will of course need to continue your DADA classes into the N.E.W.T. level, and you'll need Potions." He groaned at that, but stopped when he received a look. "It wouldn't hurt to take Ancient Runes and History of Magic as well. You'll find Charms and Transfiguration useful, if you're going to be going into less civil territories. Often times, curses are the mixture of different kinds of magic."

This was starting to sound like a lot more work than he bargained for. As if sensing his trepidation, McGonagall added, "It's best to be as well-rounded as possible. Continuing your core subjects seems like the most sensible course. And you could probably benefit from Care of Magical Creatures." She leaned back in her chair. "This is all just advice, of course. There is no exam or requirements for this particular job, only experience. So it would be best for you to stick to the subjects you think you'll need to know. And of course, if you ever want some suggestions, you could always come to me, or discuss the classes with their respective professors, to give you more of an idea of what they are about."

Harry nodded, his head full of all the potential of his future. This Career Advice thing had turned out to be rather useful. He didn't know what he had expected, but it helped to settle his nerves about the future, and for once, he just thought he might have one.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry had worried about using the Room of Requirement again after Umbridge found out about it (especially now that she also had the Marauder's Map), but where else could they spend private time together? The stress of O.W.L.s had been getting to Draco, who cared about his grades way more than Harry ever would. Sometimes he felt like he was dating a male Hermione.

"Oi, what are you laughing about over there?" Draco looked up from his Transfigurations textbook, his head propped up on his fist while his elbow dug into the pillow. It was the class he worried about the most. Harry didn't know why he was stressing out so much. He was second only to Hermione.

"You," Harry answered honestly from where he lay next to Draco on the bed. This time, instead of the record player, the Room had provided a radio, and he wondered which one of them had wished for that. It currently played one of the slower songs from the Weird Sisters. He preferred their more upbeat tunes. "Here we are in bed together, and you're reading."

Draco looked at him sheepishly. "Sorry."

"You'll do fine, Draco. You've already read that thing cover to cover twice."

He closed his book and set it on the bedside table. "You seem too lax."

Harry shrugged. "If I don't know it by now, I'm not going to."

Draco laughed. "That's so you."

"Well, I can't help being anything else but me."

Draco leant forward to give him a sweet peck on his nose. "And I wouldn't have anyone else."

Harry smiled goofily and gave him a proper kiss. Very quickly, the sweetness was burnt away by a hot need. Hands moved into hair and their breathes quickened. He wrapped his arms around his neck, gently guiding Draco to move his torso on top of him. Hands shot out onto the duvet beside his head to hold him steady. Harry loved the feel of his warm body on top of his. It was strangely soothing.

Hands pulled off his shirt, leaving him half-naked. "Harry," Draco breathed, reluctantly pulling his lips away. His eyes flickered over his face, and Harry wondered what he was searching for.

He didn't say anything more, just moved a hand to stroke his cheek. He liked to pet his head so much, it made Harry feel like a cat. Maybe Draco had left a pet at home when he ran away, and so he used Harry to slake these urges. He smiled at the thought, and it gave him enough courage to speak. "Hey, Draco...remember when you said you wanted to go further?"

His eyes widened as if he were waking up from a bad dream. "You want to...?"

He nodded, swallowing. "I've wanted to for a while. I've...uh, done some research."

"Me too. So how do you...?" He made an indecipherable gesture with his hand.

Harry turned his head to hide it into the pillow. "I've been p-preparing myself for the past week."

Draco's mouth hung open. "How many?"

Harry covered his face with one hand and held up three fingers in a scissoring motion with the other. Draco looked like he just might burst in his trousers right then and there. He stared at his fingers in hungry amazement. "Do you have any--"

His words were cut off by a popping sound and suddenly he found a small glass jar on the bed beside his hand. "Right. Forgot where we were." He picked it up, reading the label before his face made a comical twitch. "It's vanilla flavored."

"Oh my god," Harry laughed, the heel of his palm right between his eyes. He felt so nervous it was making him a bit giddy.

Draco smiled down at him. "Are you sure?"

"More than sure."

"There's my Gryffindor." Harry blushed at being called his, but didn't negate him. "First things first..." He sat up so that he could hurriedly pull his shirt up and over his head, ruffling his hair in that just-shagged look Harry loved. With a blush, he realized that that was exactly what was going to happen. Draco leaned back down and snogged him silly. It was all tongues and teeth and glorious wetness.

Harry could die happy if his lips were still attached to Draco's. The slide of his lips, the gentle press of his nose against his own, how he could count each individual lash on his eyelids. So when Draco finally decided to move away, he both regretted the loss and awaited the new. Of course Draco spent an abnormally long time attacking his neck. He really did seem to have some kind of neck fetish.

Maybe Draco was a Legilimens, because he bit down on his neck as if in punishment for his thoughts. Harry cried out at first in pain, and then in pleasure when he began suckling on that same spot. His toes curled and he bucked up into Draco to tell him to get a move on.

Luckily, the blond got the message and kissed his way down to his navel. Alternatively, his hands trailed up from his thighs to palm his nipples. Even on pain of death, he would never admit to how much he liked them played with. Draco, sly little Slytherin that he was, picked out each and every one of his weak points and exploited them with glee. Maybe he had it backwards, maybe the one with the neck fetish was him, if he enjoyed it so much. Then his trousers and pants were being ripped off in a hungry move, and he lay completely starkers in front of Draco. Startled, he realized that his was his first time being completely naked in front of him (or anyone else for that matter), and couldn't push down the rise of self-consciousness.

A long strip of wetness up the side of his half-hard cock blasted all thought from his brain. He blinked up at the black canopy, mouth open in a silent gasp.

"You think too much," Draco chided him jovially, his lips brushing teasingly against his erection.

"Really? Usually people say the opposite."

"I must not be doing a very good job if you can still talk."

"I've had worse," he teased wickedly.

"Oi! I can just leave you like this, you know." To punctuate his words, he gripped him tightly at the base.

Harry groaned. "No, please, merciful lord, I'll never speak out of turn again, so please suck my cock."

"Cheeky prat." He took his revenge by wrapping his lips around his cock and giving it a good hard suck. Harry's knees instantly snapped together, boxing him on the ears. Harry tried to say sorry, but all he could get out was a squealing noise, so he ran his fingers apologetically through blond locks, gently scratching the scalp. He need not have felt bad, for when he finally opened his eyes and looked down, the git was smiling around his cock. A bewilderingly erotic sight, to be sure.

Then that head started bobbing up and down, effectively sweeping away all rational thought. He threw his head back, arching off of the bed. His free hand went to join its brother, guiding that head in its journey. "D-Draco, I-I'm--"

He pulled off, and Harry almost wished he hadn't said anything, but he didn't want to come before the main event. Draco reached over for the jar of lubricant, generously coating his fingers. The scent of vanilla wafted up into Harry's nostrils, and he didn't think he'd ever be able to eat vanilla ice cream ever again without popping a biggie. Instead of reaching for his arse however, the slick hand wrapped around his prick and began pumping him.

"Draco! I won't _\--hnnn--_ last."

"I know. You'll be able to go again, don't worry."

Harry didn't want to though. He wanted to save it, but his brain was finding a hard time to remember why exactly. The sensation built up in him rising to the top, and tears budded at the corners of his eyes. His hands shot up to wipe them away, but missed and ended up fisting the pillow instead. A hand pushed his legs further apart.

"Oh, Harry..." Draco looked as if he were the one getting the most amazing hand job of his life. His pupils were blown wide and his mouth hung open in dumb amazement. It was too much for him, and with a strangled cry he climaxed. White strings shot out onto his stomach, and he was so overwhelmed with pleasure that he almost missed the feeling of something entering his anus.

His eyelids parted instantly and he flicked his gaze down to Draco, whose slicked up had was suspiciously missing. "Sneaky..."

He grinned. "It's the best way I can think of to get you to relax."

Harry did feel loose and limp with afterglow, and found that he couldn't fault his lover for the deception. With the shockwaves of his orgasm leaving him, the stretch of his arsehole became more noticeable.

"How does it feel?"

"Not bad." He moved his hips experimentally and a tingle raced up his spine. "Mmm, good."

Draco swallowed loudly. "Merlin's beard, Harry, you must be part incubus or something. How are you so bloody sexy?"

He bit his thumbnail to keep his high-pitched lunatic giggle from escaping. A warm glow sunk into his skin and spread all the way down to the tips of his toes. "You're not so bad yourself."

"I still don't know how I managed to land someone as amazing as you."

Harry squirmed awkwardly, not sure how to respond to such blatant praise, and gasped when the movement sent Draco's finger further in.

Still keeping his hand in place, he climbed as high as his arm could stretch so that he could murmur into Harry's ear, "Even the way you're so unaccustomed to being complimented, as if you don't know how truly attractive you are, but you still soak it all up greedily." He wiggled his finger around, stretching Harry enough to slip in a second digit, and he was too overpowered by the words to notice the sting. "I love the way you fly as if you were born with wings. I love the way you dance. I love how easily you blush. I love your childish wisdom. I love how you can't let an injustice go by unnoticed. I love how easily you can read me. I love your eyes."

Harry's breath staggered, and he thought for sure his heart would stop with all these feelings bombarding him. Between the fingers moving in and out of him and these delightful words pricking at his heart like needles, it was a wonder he didn't just die right there.

"And I'm going to keep telling you these things until we're doddering old men."

Something was building up in his chest, not unlike the dark cloud, but just as powerful. He could feel it roaring like some mad beast, and his entire torso trembled with the effort to keep it locked down. It felt as foreboding as one of Trelawney's predictions.

"You ready?" Draco's voice was husky and dark with lust, and Harry's stomach somersaulted at the sound.

"Yes."

He quirked a grin at his enthusiastic response, and retrieved his fingers. Harry whimpered at the loss, feeling hollow.

"Patience, mon petit lion." As suave as he sounded, his hands fumbled with his trousers. He hissed when finally his erection sprung free. He clumsily grabbed the jar of lubricant, too impatient to do more than up-end the thing on his swollen member, pumping himself just enough to make sure he was thoroughly coated. He knelt before him, Harry's legs spread wide around him, his cock in hand, nipples pink and firm, and Harry was hit with such an intense force of want that it knocked the breath out of him.

Draco looked just as wrecked. He quickly propped Harry's knees around his elbows and positioned his head at his entrance. Suddenly, Harry reached his arms out to wrap around Draco's neck to pull him down for a kiss. This new position would be a strain on his back, but Harry would die if he didn't snog him right that second. With their lips attached, Draco pushed his hips slowly forward, and all Harry could think was, 'Finally, finally, finally...'

Even with all of the stretching before, Harry still hissed in pain, his fingers biting into the back of Draco's neck. The blond paused instantly, looking down at him in concern. Harry shook his head, and canted his hips down to push the head of his cock past that first tight ring of muscle. Draco snapped his teeth together, breathing hard through his nose. Harry watched the muscles of his neck clench, felt it under his fingers, and couldn't resist the temptation to lean up and lick a bead of sweat from his throat.

"Harry..." Draco sounded like he were twisting his arm, so he took pity on him.

"Move."

Draco obeyed with a sob, thrusting shallowly. If Harry had thought the fingers felt nice this was so much more, well, everything. The stretch of his arse hurt, but it felt so good too, and more importantly, it was the thought of Draco pushing inside him that made his mouth water.

"Merlin, _so tight."_

"So big," Harry countered, which earned him a cocky (pun intended) grin.

Draco pushed in just a little further and they groaned in unison. Harry had the strange sensation of feeling the vibrations up through his arse, and he thought, 'Wow, I'm really doing this. I'm shagging Draco Malfoy.'

The rhythm grew faster, and Draco's thrusts deeper and deeper, going further than the fingers ever did. Draco hovered above him, arms like marble columns beside Harry's head, and he watched his whole body tense up. He repeated Harry's name over and over as if he were drowning, and Harry was watching him from a lifeboat. He could feel that Something again, growing larger and more powerful until he could feel it in every pore, in every blood cell. He held onto Draco, knowing that Something was about to happen to him, about to change him forever. Then, at the same time Draco hit a spot inside him that sent delicious electricity through every single nerve ending, he realized what that Something was.

Harry gasped, tears bursting forth quite against his will, and he couldn't stop their flow. Draco froze as if Harry had cast _Petrificus Totalus_ on him. "Oh Merlin, Harry, did I hurt you?"

Harry shook his head, but the tears kept coming and he couldn't stop his fearful trembling.

"What is it, Harry?"

"I love you." And it terrified him. He knew now that he couldn't live without Draco, that he had become something essential, something needed, and he couldn't afford that. He'd learned early on that if he relied on anything it would inevitably be taken from him. It had been fine before, because the ones he had loved the most were his parents, and they were already gone, but Draco was alive and vulnerable. There were so many ways to kill him, so many ways to separate him from Harry, and he didn't know if he could survive that.

Draco's eyes swam with tears that fell onto Harry's face. "Oh dearest, I love you too. I love you so much." He began thrusting in earnest now, all control gone. He angled his hips to try and hit that one spot again, and he got it most of the time, and it was driving Harry wild, reducing him to sensation. He kept chanting "I love you, I love you," like a prayer, and Harry answered back with "Draco, Draco," and it stopped sounding like a name and more like the incantation to a spell.

"Together," Draco panted into his mouth.

"Always," Harry cried, and then they both howled in harmony as orgasm ripped through both of them. His nerves were so alight with pleasure that he couldn't even feel his body anymore, but he could feel Draco.

It felt like an eternity, but eventually the white-hot pleasure dulled to a satisfied glow and Draco collapsed on top of him. He didn't have the energy to push him off, but he also didn't have the energy to cry either. With a grunt, Draco pushed himself up on shaking arms. "Sorry."

Harry shook his head weakly.

Draco pulled out of him with a shudder that left Harry shivering despite the lethargy sinking into him. He felt his arsehole twitching trying to take back that deliciously full feeling, but now he felt hollowed out. He wondered if he'd always feel like a piece of him was missing without Draco. With a shock, he could feel something warm and wet trickle out of him. Draco's cum.

"I read that you're not supposed to cum inside. It gives you the runs. Maybe we should have used a rubber..."

Seeing Draco Malfoy fret about such a thing with tear tracks running down his cheeks was so absurd, Harry couldn't help but laugh tiredly. "You're saying that now?"

He looked properly chastened. "I honestly didn't think about it until now. I was caught up in the moment."

"Lucky for you, I know a spell." He lazily searched around for his wand with one hand, before it wrapped around it and waved the thing in a heavy swish. Instantly, the wet feeling disappeared, leaving only that familiar empty tingle, except this time he felt it all over his body. In fact, he felt completely rejuvenated. Even the growing soreness in his arse was gone. He sat up, blinking. He looked down into his hand and realized that he held Draco's wand, not his. "What was that?"

"Harry...I felt that." Draco was staring at him with wide eyes.

"What was that? I thought other people's wands weren't supposed to work as well for you."

"I don't know. Wands have a mind of their own. Maybe..." He turned away with a blush. "Maybe we're compatible."

He dropped the wand onto one of the cushions. "You get ridiculously sappy when you have sex, you know that? What was with all of those pet names earlier?"

He pulled Harry into an embrace and let them fall back down onto the bed, so that he was wrapped around him like an octopus. He nuzzled Harry's cheek. "I can't help that I'm a naturally affectionate person."

"I can't believe I use to think you were a threat." But he embraced Draco back, soaking all of the attention in secret glee. "You're as scary as a pygmy puff."

He received a light pinch to his bottom in punishment. "Who won that duel again?"

"Only because you cheated."

"There's no rules against using a Warming Charm, Harry."

"It's not my fault. I was seduced."

"Yes, and I corrupted the pure little Gryffindor and stole his virtue." He kissed his jaw with a playful growl. "You know, in hindsight, I should have taken a bit of your blood. I know of a few Dark potions and rituals that call for virgin blood."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Then you should have taken some of your own."

Draco laughed, a full-bellied chortle that made Harry smile like a dope. Merlin, he was a lost cause, wasn't he?

"It felt good for you, right?" He murmured into Draco's hair.

"I'm pretty sure you felt the answer to that question. It was just leaking out of your arse a minute ago."

"Don't be crass."

"And you?"

"I don't think I'll be able to settle for just a hand job anymore."

"Glad to have been of service." He paused, and Harry could feel the smirk against his throat drop away. "You meant what you said before, right? It wasn't just a heat of the moment kind of thing?"

Harry's hearted tumbled with as much grace as him skating on ice. "Yes."

The arms around him tightened. He squeezed back, and tried very hard not to think about the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song playing on the radio in the Room is "Magic Works" by The Weird Sisters ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4l5ACTUo37g ). I didn't care much for it at first, but it grew on me, and now I'm singing it like a drunk at a karaoke bar.


	9. The O.W.L.s

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His scar hurt as it never had before, like knives digging straight into his brain, but it was nothing compared to the dread in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the only instance of a bottom!Draco that you guys will get.

Even with that weird spell he had cast on himself, Harry was still a bit shaky on his feet and he couldn't seem to walk straight. It still felt like he had a cock up his arse. His face was flaming all the way back to Gryffindor Tower. Draco had tried to convince him to spend the night in the Room of Requirement, but he didn't want to worry his friends when he didn't return that night. He shouldn't have bothered.

When he entered the common room just before curfew, he found it devoid of any life, with the exception of two familiar souls sitting on the sofa in front of the fire. They were the picture of cozy intimacy, large hand on top of soft, slim hand, bangs tickling each other with their foreheads so close, and timid smiles on their lips as they drew ever so closer. Ron and Hermione were in their own little world, and Harry didn't want to disturb them. He tried to slip silently past them, but unfortunately, they had a plain view of him, and Hermione startled, jumping away from Ron. "H-Harry! We didn't expect you back tonight."

All thoughts of ribbing them for their newfound relationship drifted from his head as he cocked it curiously to the side. "And why wouldn't I be back tonight?"

Her face flushed crimson, and she averted her gaze. Harry looked to Ron to see him looking just as awkward and it dawned on him. "Seriously? He went to _you_ for research? Is there anything you two don't talk about together?"

"Now, Harry, don't be like that. He didn't exactly have anyone else to turn to."

"He could have gone to Seamus and Dean like I did!"

"Those are your friends, Harry, not his. He didn't feel comfortable asking them. He didn't even feel comfortable asking me. I just pointed him along to the right book." Huh, so there really was some kind of anal sex aid in the library.

He knew he was overreacting, but he hadn't exactly planned on shouting to the world that he had just lost his virginity. With a horror, he realized now between him and Draco asking around, nearly half of Gryffindor already knew. He wanted to curl up under his blankets and never leave.

"There's nothing to be ashamed about, Harry," Hermione quickly said. "You two were very responsible, and if you both love each other, then it's a natural course of action."

Harry's heart skipped over that word, love. Oh, right, they were in love, weren't they? "Wait, how did you know about that when I only figured it out today?"

She froze, and this time it was Ron who answered awkwardly. "You're kind of obvious, mate." Was he really? Did everyone know? Did the Slytherins? Had they told their parents who reported it to their master? With a sinking feeling of dread, he realized that Voldemort need only look inside his head. He would have to convince Snape to restart his Occlumency lessons. Reading his face wrong, Ron added, "It's not a bad thing. It's rather sweet actually. I always thought Malfoy was a git, but he's a decent bloke around you. He even gave me one of his duplicate chocolate frog cards. I've almost got the entire collection now!"

Harry couldn't really care much for Ron's collection, because his insides had suddenly melted into the consistency of ectoplasm. He strode forward to sit on the floor in front of the fire so he could face the two of them properly. His dumb smile was apparently contagious, because soon Hermione and Ron were smiling at him too.

"So, Harry, how was it?"

"Hermione!" You'd think Ron was her mother with how appalled he looked, eyes wide and hands over his dainty heart.

"Wet." At their disgusted looks, he rushed to amend, "We were sort of crying during it." He scratched the back of his head, unable to look either of them in the eye.

"That bad or that good?" Ron teased.

"A bit of both, actually. Don't get me wrong, it felt amazing, it's just..." He trailed off, watching the light from the flames dance across the maroon carpet. The Something from before welled up in him and crashed over him, and despite how much he had cried just a few hours earlier, he found tears springing readily to his eyes. "I do love him. I do, and I'm so scared."

His friends were by his side and on their knees in an instant, wrapping around him like a blanket. "Oh, Harry..." Their comfort only seemed to make him cry harder, and now his chest heaved with his gross sobbing. He leant his head against Ron's shoulder, but instead of stiffening awkwardly at this unmanly display of emotion, his friend pulled him in tighter, while Hermione rubbed soothing circles into his back. He had the strange wish that they were his new parents, even if they were all the same age.

Now that he had started, he couldn't stop his words from tumbling out. "I'm so scared. I don't know how to be in love. What if I'm not supposed to have it? I loved my parents and it got them killed. What if the same happens to Draco?"

He heard sobs that were not his own, and the circles on his back stopped abruptly. "Harry, you know that's not true."

"But I have a madman after me, looking inside my head. What if he sees how much I need him and takes him away just to hurt me?"

"The same could be said of us, mate." Ron's voice sounded hoarse, as if he had been screaming. "We're safe under Dumbledore's protection. And the Order's too."

But Dumbledore was gone. Because of him.

He felt hands tightening on his shoulders to turn him just enough to face Hermione. Her eyes were red, but she looked completely serious. "Now you listen to me, Harry Potter. You deserve love. You deserve happiness. Your parents were taken away by the action of an evil man."

"But my mum--"

She hit him with a stern look for interrupting. "I know what your mother did. Loving you is not a death sentence. Your mother didn't die because she loved you, but because V-Voldemort killed her. There will always be the possibility that those you love may be taken from you, either by foul means or natural accidents, but you can't live your life worrying about when that might happen. Instead, why don't you embrace this happiness, and enjoy it to the fullest? Instead of mourning the loss of something you haven't even lost yet, be grateful for having it while you do."

His sobs had quieted into soft hiccups as he stared at her in wonder, letting her words really sink in. He hadn't realized how much of a pessimist he was until now. He was in love! He should be grossly over the moon, not crying like a baby in his friends' arms. He sniffled, wiping his nose tiredly. "'m sorry. You're right, 'Mione."

"Isn't she always?" Ron chuckled, allowing Harry to pull away from his embrace. "We'd be lost without her."

Hermione flushed, smiling. "Someone has to watch out for you boys."

They laughed tiredly, and Harry thanked whatever heavenly forces had given him such amazing friends. "Sorry for interrupting your date." He smiled coyly, glad to move away from his problems.

The both of them blushed furiously, stammering. He waved away their worries. "I'm glad. It's about time you two got together. Now you can stop being jealous of me and Draco."

"I'm hardly jealous of him." Ron scoffed, but looked secretly pleased.

"Just one thing, when you two eventually go all the way, please don't tell me about it."

 

* * *

 

Snape seemed determined to deny Harry's existence, even if it was the only thing left in his classroom besides himself. He had stayed behind after class, waving his friends on ahead of him. Harry would have never thought that Snape's ultimate ire would be a mere shunning. After being violently ejected from his office that night, he had suspected Snape to be utterly ruthless in class, flunking him and insulting him scathingly, but even when Harry's potion was a murky green when it should have been a soothing lavender, Snape only glanced over his cauldron and moved on. Somehow that was worse.

"Don't you have a class to be getting to, Potter?" Snape didn't look up from the stack of parchments on his desk.

"Oh, so you do know I exist."

Snape's glare was searing. "I'll have none of your cheek, Potter. Now leave."

"Do you keep calling me Potter to remind you that I am James Potter's son?"

He slammed his hand on the desk. "Get out now, or I will force you out." He pulled out his wand, but Harry didn't flinch. He wasn't scared of Snape. Not anymore.

"Sorry. I'm sorry for what I saw, and the fact that I saw it."

Snape straightened his back, making himself appear taller. He glared down his beak-like nose at him. "You had no right."

Despite himself, Harry's temper flared. "It's not like you weren't rooting around my head like it were a bargain bin." He shook his head. "I didn't come here to fight with you again."

"Then why are you annoying me with your insufferable presence?" Was it just him, or did the sharpness in his voice seemed to have dulled a smidge?

"I came to apologize, and to ask that you please resume lessons." He folded his hands behind his back in what he hoped was a nonaggressive pose.

"And why should I?"

"Because I fully understand the importance of them now. Because I promise to put forth my best effort."

"Implying that you haven't before now."

Harry ignored that comment and continued. "Because Professor Dumbledore told you to. And because I need them."

Snape regarded him for a long moment, eyes hooded in a deadpan expression, and derision pulling at his top lip. "If this is you humbling yourself to beg for forgiveness, then your arrogance must be limitless."

And who was the one throwing a fit because their student saw a bad memory. If anything, it was good for their relationship, because now he couldn't bring forth his usual righteous anger. "I was wrong, sir, I admit that. I did not put forth as much effort as I could have. Despite your horrible teaching methods, I should have respected you enough to listen."

Something not unlike a snort came out of Snape's nose. "You are as good at apologies as you are at Potions."

Really, he was trying to be the better man here. "Who is at fault, then? The student for not learning, or the teacher for not teaching? I'm a fifteen-year-old boy, professor. What's your excuse?" He smirked in triumph when Snape's face contorted in rage. It took him a moment to remember that that was not his original goal.

The older man clenched his fists, before forcing them to relax. The snarling disappeared to be replaced by his usual smirking veneer. "Fine, Mr. Potter. I shall resume these lessons if only to watch you fail so miserably."

"Thank you, sir."

"I want to see you in my office after dinner tomorrow evening, and not a moment before, is that understood?"

With a cheeky grin, he nodded and left.

 

* * *

 

"Where exactly are you taking us?" Draco asked warily, eyeing the dark shadow of the thick treeline. Harry couldn't blame him for his trepidation. He'd never exactly had a good experience in the Forbidden Forest. For being a forbidden forest, they certainly did like to send students in there.

"You'll see in a minute," Hagrid said offhandedly, lumbering over a large tree root, crossbow in hand in case they came across some unfriendly creatures.

They travelled through the forest in silence. Even though it was the afternoon, the canopy was so thick that only thin streams of sunlight made their way to the forest floor. They heard a thundering crash, and the ground trembled just slightly.

"W-What was that?" Draco subtly placed himself behind Harry, and he couldn't keep the pleased smile off of his face. He stopped himself from puffing out his chest.

"That," Hagrid said as they crawled up a hill, "is Grawp." In a small clearing, tied to a large tree, surrounded by bits and bobs was a giant in a leather trousers and vest even more crude than Hagrid's gear. He had a block shaped head with large ears and a tuft of brown hair on top of his head. He sat on the ground like a child, examining a rusty old tricycle. "He's my brother - well, half brother. I found him when I went ter parlay with the giants."

"What's he doing here?" Harry blurted out. He'd hadn't much liked mountain trolls, and they were a sight smaller than this fella.

"The other's were pickin' on him, 'cause he's so small."

" _That's_ small?"

Hagrid ignored Draco and continued. "I couldn't just leave 'im. I'm the only family he's got."

Harry's heart melted, and he knew he couldn't turn Hagrid down. He'd always had a soft spot for the half-giant.

"So why did you call us out here, then?" Ron asked, eyeing Grawp warily. The giant finally noticed them and clambered to his feet. He took two lumbering steps towards them before the rope tied around his waist pulled taut, halting his progress.

"Well, with Umbridge in charge now, I'll likely get the sack any moment," Hagrid sniffled, wiping tears from his eyes. "An' I won't be here to take care of 'im. He gets hit own food and all. It's company he'll be needin'. Just come visit him ev'ry so often."

Four pairs of eyes flickered to Grawp nervously. Harry turned to him and said, "Ok, we'll do it."

"No, we won't!" Draco protested. "That thing could crush us in one fell swoop."

"You don't have to come if you're scared, Malfoy," Ron said tersely.

"You think I'm just going to let Harry get sat on by that thing?"

"Oh, but its fine if we are?"

Harry put his hands up before they could work themselves into a row. "Look, Draco, if I say I'm doing it, then I'm doing it. You can either come along or not."

Draco's bottom lip puckered out in a full-blown pout, but he acquiesced. Harry knew he'd come along, but he didn't have to be happy about it.

 

* * *

 

"Remove your glasses."

Harry shot Snape an incredulous look. "What?"

"Your spectacles, Potter. Those ghastly things on top of your nose."

Harry did as instructed, folding them on his lap. It seemed like a strange request, but maybe the glass got in the way of the Legilimency spell? But that would only make it more powerful, surely? He gulped.

Snape's shoulders relaxed. "Now, let's try this again, shall we? Are you ready?"

Harry nodded, taking a deep breath and exhaling through his nose.

_"Legilimens."_

_"I'm no longer interested in killing Mudbloods," the overly fruity punch in his glass as he set it on the table next to a pouty Ron, holding hands with a bronzed stranger that smiled fondly down at him, Harry focusing on writing the words 'Put a stopper in Death.'_

Snape reared back from his mental attack, growling. "You said you were going to try this time, and yet you are still as abysmal as before."

"It's not like I'm going to become a master at it just because I'm putting more effort into it." Harry rubbed his head, fighting back the migraine that threatened to overwhelm him. He certainly hoped this wasn't giving him brain damage. "You can't just keep using the same teaching methods as before."

"Then what do you suggest, Potter?" He threw his wand hand up in the air.

"Well, how do you do it?"

"I told you before. I empty my mind, control my emotions, and build up my walls."

"I don't think I could do that."

"So you're just giving up after that heartfelt speech about giving it a proper effort?"

"No, no. Is Occlumency the same for everyone? Is there one standard way to do it?"

Snape cottoned on to where he was leading. "All minds are alike, but not perfectly. What would you suggest instead?"

Harry shrugged. It was hard to think with the pounding in his head. If anything, it felt like Snape was weakening his mental hold rather than strengthening it. A part of him whispered that maybe that had been his plan all along. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. He shook his head. He had seen into this man's mind. Sure, he had felt his loathing for his father, but he had also felt his heartbreak at destroying his friendship with his mother. "Do I have to build up walls? Do I have to empty my mind?"

"If you wish to keep out the Dark Lord, then yes."

Harry thought for a moment. "The point of all of this is to keep him from seeing into my mind, right? To keep him from possessing me?"

"Yes, do keep up, Potter."

He ignored the ribbing. "What if I can't keep him out? You said it yourself he was a master Legilimens. What should I do then?"

Snape raised his right eyebrow coolly. "Are you suggesting that your best defense is to let the Dark Lord in?"

"What if I thought of something he would have no interest in? What if that was the only thought in my head? Then he would just leave of his own will."

Snape frowned, but didn't seem angry. "What you are suggesting is a more advanced level of Occlumency. To hide away only the unwanted thoughts..."

"Well, I never could seem to grasp the basics." He shrugged his shoulders. It would be like him to go straight for the advanced stuff that was way beyond his year, but not get stuff his year level.

If Harry didn't know any better, he'd say that Snape's lips had almost twitched into a smile. Must be that headache. "Very well. We'll give it a try. Focus on one single thought."

Harry nodded. Thinking of Crookshanks, Hermione's ugly cat. He doubted Voldemort would care much about her.

"On the count of three....One, Two, Three. _Legilimens!"_

 

* * *

 

"Hey, Harry, do you want try it the other way?"

Harry pulled off his jumper and his shirt in one go. "What do you mean?" Someone should really invent an instant de-robing charm of some sort.

Draco fiddle with his cuff. "Well, I got to bugger you last time, so would you want to switch places?"

"Oh." He tossed his clothes somewhere out of the way. He hadn't really thought about it. The way they had done it before was so wonderful, changing it had never occurred to him. Though, really, he should have. He was a man. He had a cock. And what were those meant for if not to stick in things? "Um, yeah, if you're willing."

Draco nodded. "So, um, yeah, how should we do this? Do you want me to just lay down, or...?"

Harry didn't know. He'd always just let Draco lead things, and now that he had been handed the reigns, he floundered. He nodded, his throat clamming up.

They quickly divested themselves of the rest of their clothing, Draco lying on his back on the bed, looking up at him with such trust in his eyes it knocked the breath out of him. He tried to think of what Draco would do in this situation, and leant over him for a kiss. Harry moaned into it, his body writhing on top of the other's, brushing their growing erections together deliciously. As much as he'd love nothing more than to rut against each other, he had a bigger goal in mind.

Just as Draco would do, he moved his lips to his jawline, kissing and licking in turn, just savoring the flavor of his skin. When he started sucking at a pulse point, Draco let out the most erotic sound. He hungered like never before. Maybe this would be a good opportunity to exact some revenge. With a sly grin, he bent down to capture a nipple in his lips. Draco's squeak abruptly ended like the murder of a mouse, and Harry played with the bud with his tongue, rolling it around and flicking the tip. Draco bucked under him, and his own nipples felt cold and lonely.

"Har-ry, Har-ry," Draco crooned like a heartbeat.

Reluctantly, he released the bud, smiling at the trail of spittle connecting it to his lips. He sat back to observe his work. Draco's entire body was taut with the effort to keep himself from pouncing on Harry, most likely. He looked a hot mess, and Harry licked his lips. He felt too impatient, too ravenous to tease him like he wanted to, like he wanted done to him. He marveled at Draco's self-control as he avidly crawled down to take his cock into his mouth. Draco bucked once, but Harry put firm hands on his hips. As wonderful as him fucking his mouth had been, this was a different story. He sucked hard, bobbing his head relentlessly, almost too rough. Hands flew to his head, muscles bunched as it gently guided his head up and down in just the way Draco wanted. He moaned around his cock. Harry's entrance puckered longingly, clenching sadly around nothing. Before he even knew what he was doing, his hands had snuck behind his back and he started fingering himself.

Draco could see, and he moaned so loudly, Harry could feel it in his cock. Unfortunately, Draco pulled his head off of him, and he gave a little pout at the loss. "Harry, you're supposed to be sticking those fingers in me."

Harry whimpered. He wished there was some kind of way they could bugger each other at the same time. As desperately as he wanted Draco's cock in him, his partner wanted to try it the other way, and he couldn't selfishly refuse him. With an effort, he managed to pull his finger out of himself, and instead reached for the magically appearing jar of vanilla scented lubricant. When his fingers were properly slick, he tentatively inserted one finger. Draco made a little "ooh" noise, but didn't seem to be in any pain. Still, he waited until he got the go-ahead before moving. Fingering Draco was surreal. He knew how it felt to be on the other end, could even feel the phantom memory of it himself. When Draco thrashed his head to the side, he knew that it was because he felt so sweetly debauched, so wrong and yet so right, and that this was the first time he'd ever felt anything from that part of his body. He also knew that there was a special spot further in that would make it feel amazing, if only he could reach it.

"Ready for another?"

"Yeah."

Adding more lube, just to be on the safe side, he pushed in his second finger. It took a moment longer to get used to that new stretch, and Draco panted beneath him, holding his hand up in a signal for Harry to wait. Once he finally dropped his hand, Harry eagerly went about stretching him even further, scissoring his fingers as he pumped them in and out. It was strange, to be on this end. If he sat back, he could see everything, watch his fingers disappear into that tight arse.

"Now, my love, now..."

Harry looked up in surprise. It felt too soon, but Draco was looking at him with the intensity of a man starved, and knew the boy was close to coming. His mouth dry, he pulled his fingers out to replace them with his cock. The tight, wet heat was almost too much for him. He froze, afraid that any movement would make him come right then and there. Draco threw his head back, groaning, and Harry felt his insides tighten, as if the blond was trying to milk him dry. "Draco..."

Draco's eyes snapped to him, and even though he was on his back with a cock up the arse, Harry had the strange sensation of wanting to kneel before him, even though technically he was already kneeling. "Move, baby, go ahead."

Draco must be close if he was using pet names already. Harry nodded and canted his hips forward and he could feel his penis nudge against something, and Draco let out a strangled cry, and a bit of cum leaked out of his cock. Ah, so there it was. With abandon, Harry began thrusting, trying to angle towards that wonderful spot. After three hits, Draco came, shouting so loud it sounded like his throat hurt. Harry didn't last much longer, fucking Draco through his orgasm, before his own finally hit him.

Harry's arms shook with the effort to keep himself up, and he knew now why Draco was always collapsing on top of him. With an effort, he pulled out of him, gasping at the slide against his penis, and fell onto his back beside him. They let their breathing fill up the room, giving their endorphins time to fade away.

Draco turned onto his side, propping his head on his fist. "So, how was it?"

Harry rolled over. It had felt good, but there was just something missing. It had felt more like mutual masturbation, a means to an end. "I like the other way better."

"Me too. Don't get me wrong, I would never refuse you if you wanted to switch positions, but the other way felt more..."

"...right."

Draco smiled, and leant over to kiss him on the nose. "I love being able to make you squirm, whether you're on top or bottom."

Harry flushed, hiding his face by leaning his head against Draco's chest. He could hear his heartbeat, still beating fast. "It makes me feel safe...protected."

He felt Draco's huff of laughter. "That makes no sense. You're much more powerful than me. If anything, I would be asking you for protection."

"I know, I know. It's not that kind of protection."

Draco didn't say anything, just wrapped his arm around Harry and pulled him closer.

 

* * *

 

The night sky glittered above them, magically cloudless for their Astronomy O.W.L. Harry looked down at his exam sheet and stared dumbly at the blank spaces. He adjusted his telescope and pointed it towards Jupiter. Or, at least, he thought it was Jupiter. All the little points of light kind of looked the same to him.

Suddenly, the main gates to the castle opened, and he saw five or six figures walk out onto the grounds. Curious as to what anyone would be doing out and about at this time of night, he pointed his telescope down, peering through the lens. To his surprise, he spotted Umbridge followed by a gaggle of strange adults in Auror robes. More than curious now, he kept his telescope trained on them as they made their way across the grounds. It looked like she was headed towards the Forbidden Forest.

"Harry," Hermione hissed at him. "You're supposed to be looking at the sky."

"It's Umbridge. She's headed for Hagrid's hut."

"What?" Then Hermione's telescope trailed down. "Are those Aurors with her? What does she need them for?"

When she knocked on the door, Hagrid opened it to meet her, a small point of light in the dark outdoors. They spoke for a while, and then Hagrid started shaking his fist and shouting.

"That wicked woman! She's expelling him from the grounds, and she's doing it under cover of night." Hermione looked outraged, clenching her telescope so hard it shook.

Then the spells flew, and Harry heard a few more gasps that were not his own, and knew that the other students had realized what was going on. Professor Sinistra kept trying to draw their attention back to their exams, but no one was listening. With a gasp, they watched in horror as McGonagall joined the fray to protect Hagrid, but was hit in the chest with a spell that sent her to the ground.

 

* * *

 

With Hagrid on the run and McGonagall at St. Mungo's, it felt as if all the adults Harry could trust were being picked off one by one. He couldn't believe that the greatest defense against Voldemort was being systematically destroyed, and by the Ministry, no less. It's as if the world wanted to be taken over by a madman. It had thrown a pallor on his exams, which were already terrible enough. Despite his bravado to Draco before, he fretted and worried and stretched his mind for any sort of clue about what the answers might be.

He sat in the wooden chair that seemed to have been charmed to be uncomfortable, so as to keep students from sleeping. He shifted in it awkwardly, and reread the last question to his History of Magic exam. Something about troll wars in Lichtenstein. He wracked his brain for an answer. He knew this.

Harry ran down the long black corridor, the tiles so polished that he could see a dark, shadowy reflection of a person in them. He found the door at the end and opened it with ease. Inside the room of shelves, he glanced up at the glittering crystal balls. He knew he had to get somewhere, and his feet carried him away. He ran down the aisle, his eyes glancing up at the dusty gold placard on that shelves that read out a number. When he reached 97, he turned left and hurried along the shelves, closer to the shadows as they began to take shape.

Then the urgency fled him as he arrived on the scene. Kneeling on the ground, tied up, and sporting a bloody nose was Draco Malfoy. He glanced up at him in fear, trembling. Harry lifted his skeletal white hand, his yew wand pointed right at him. "You have disappointed me, Draco," Harry spoke in a cold, hissing voice. "I thought you had more fight left in you."

Draco shivered, his head hung low.

"You do not yet understand the punishment for treason, but you will." The tip of his wand traced along his jaw. "I am a merciful lord, Draco. I can forgive your transgressions if you swear fealty to me, and retrieve something for me."

Draco looked up, something hard in his eyes even as his lips trembled. "I would never betray Harry."

Harry smiled. "Haven't you already?" And then, just because he could, he hit him with the Cruciatus Curse. Draco screamed, a terrible sound, made even worse by Harry's laughter, and this high-pitched ringing...

Harry awoke at the same instant he fell out of his desk. His scar hurt as it never had before, like knives digging straight into his brain, but it was nothing compared to the dread in his heart. Voldemort had Draco, and it was only a matter of time before he killed him.


	10. The Veil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How could you? Your own son!" He pointed his wand at the man, but he didn't even flinch. He couldn't believe this was the same man who had humbled himself to beg Severus Snape to save his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost the end...

He managed to leave the Hospital Wing, foisting everyone's worries off on exam stress. His scar still hurt, merely a dull throb compared to how it had once been. He didn't know who he should turn to. Dumbledore and Hagrid were gone, McGonagall in St. Mungo's... The only other member of the Order left was Snape, but he still wasn't quite sure he could trust him. If anyone could sneak Draco out of the castle, it would be Snape. How odd that all the other members should be ejected from the castle, except for him.

"Harry, Harry, stop a moment." Hermione latched onto his sleeve, successfully halting him in place. "Tell me what's wrong."

"He's got him, Hermione. He's got Draco." Saying it aloud made it sound so much more real, and he pushed down a sob. Now was not the time to start crying helplessly. Draco needed him.

"Shouldn't he be sitting for exams?" Ron asked. "He was supposed to be taking his Ancient Runes exam with you, right, Hermione? When was the last time you saw him?"

Her silence was answer enough. "How do you know he's been taken?"

"I saw it, Hermione. I saw him tied up in the Department of Mysteries, being tortured by Voldemort. He wanted something from him, I don't know what. But I could sense that he was going to kill him soon."

He made to move again, he didn't know where, but she stopped him again. "...Do you think that maybe you saw these things because he wanted you to see them?"

"What do you mean?" Ron looked at her quizzically.

"Well, you tend to rush off to save the day without carefully assessing the situation--"

"I don't have some kind of hero complex, Hermione!"

"I'm just saying, that Voldemort knows you, has access to your mind. That's why you've been doing all those lessons with Snape, right? Is it really that far of a stretch for him to send you a vision to lure you out of Hogwarts?"

Ron nodded. "This does kind of feel like a trap."

"But it was real! I felt it!" He wanted to throttle them, and he wondered if it had been Sirius there instead of Draco if they would be so hesitant. Then he felt bad for thinking such horrible thoughts, and forced himself to calm down.

"Why don't we just check first?" Ron suggested. "It should be easy to see if he's still in the castle."

"It'll take too long to search everywhere."

"There is one way," Hermione piped in. "The Marauder's Map."

"But it's in Umbridge's office," Harry said.

"Then we'll just have to sneak in. Now's a perfect time, actually. She's downstairs proctoring an exam right now."

"Still, we can't just leave it up to chance. We'll need a distraction, to make sure no one comes up there."

Ron's eyes lit up with an idea. "I think I might know just the people."

 

* * *

 

As the Weasley twins unleashed their full supply of whiz-bangs amid their Portable Swamp, Harry and his friends ran up the stairs to Umbridge's office. Surprisingly, it wasn't locked with anything a good _Alohomora_ couldn't open. You'd think she would have better defenses set up, considering how much the whole school hated her.

As soon as they shut the door behind them, they set about searching. They pulled open all of the cabinets, ruffled through all of the shelves. "Hey, Harry, I found your Firebolt," Ron called to him, his hands on the lid of a chest.

"Leave it. We need to find the map." He pulled open the top drawer of her desk, but it was only filled with quills and parchment and things. He slammed it back closed and opened the next one. An assortment of confiscated Weasley goods, but still not what he was looking for. But when his hand went to the little metal handle to pull open the last drawer, nothing happened. He pulled and pulled, but still it would not budge. He pointed his wand at it and said, _"Alohomora_." Still nothing.

Hermione came over to see what his growl of frustration was about. "It won't open?"

He shook his head. "I already tried the Unlocking Charm."

She frowned. _"Alohomora Duo!"_ Nothing happened. "Oh sod it, _Bombarda!"_ The face of the drawer blasted to pieces, flecks of wood flying everywhere. Someone definitely had to have heard that.

"Hermione!" Ron hissed, eyes flinching towards the door.

"Hurry up then!" Harry nodded and brushed away wooden debris until he could pull the drawer out, and sure enough, right there on top was the Marauder's Map, still active. He hastily pulled it out and spread it open on the desk top. "Look for Draco." With three sets of eyes, surely they would find him quickly. Harry started from the bottom, going up. When his search of the dungeons proved fruitless, he looked all over the ground floor. He saw a whole slew of names in the Great Hall for exams, but none of them were Draco. He skimmed over the entrance, looked at the first floor, still no sign of that little dot.

"I'm not seeing him!" His heart raced.

"Check the dungeons," Ron added.

"You don't think I already checked there? I'm not an idiot!" Ron looked hurt, but Harry was in too much of a panic to apologize.

Just as he was extending his search to the grounds, the door to the office burst open and Pansy Parkinson and Umbridge ran inside. They had just enough time to look up in horror when magical ropes flew out of Umbridge's wand and tied all three of them up.

"Ah-ha! I caught you in the act." Umbridge's eyes looked wild, and her hair was in a disarray, a stray bit of jungle vine still on her head. "You were trying to get a message to Dumbledore, weren't you?"

He looked at her like she was dumb, but then decided it best to let her labor under her delusions. When they didn't answer, she grabbed Harry and threw him into her desk chair, wand still pointing at them. "Pansy, dear, you take care of those two. Make sure they don't try anything."

Pansy smiled in glee, turning towards Ron and Hermione with a wand raised threateningly. She was really taking this Inquisitorial Squad business seriously.

Umbridge turned her attention back to Harry. "You were trying to contact Dumbledore, yes? What was the message? Where is he?"

"I wasn't trying to--" His words were cut off by a hard slap to the face.

"DON'T LIE TO ME," Umbridge shrieked. Harry wondered what sorts of torture the Weasley twins made her endure for her to look so unhinged. "I thought I taught you not to tell lies, Mr. Potter." A knock on the door interrupted her, and it seemed so polite and out of place with the horrific scene playing out.

It opened to reveal Professor Snape, looking at them all with cool disdain. "You called for me, Headmaster?"

"Yes, Snape, just the man I wanted to see." She straighted her pink robe. "I'll require some Veritaserum."

"I'm afraid you have used up all of my stock at the moment."

Umbridge growled in fury, and Harry thought this might be his only chance. "He's got my dragon," he shouted towards Snape, desperately hoping he would understand. "He's got my dragon in the place where it is hidden." If Snape were truly on Dumbledore's side, then he would go round up the Order to go save Draco.

Umbridge's toady face flicked between the two of them. "Dragon? What dragon? Snape, what is he talking about?"

Snape looked at him with an unreadable face, and Harry wished he knew enough Legilimency to see into his head. "No idea. Mr. Potter, if I wanted to listen to inane ramblings, I would go read your Potions essay." Harry's heart sank. Either Snape didn't understand or he wilfully misunderstood. "If that is all, Headmistress?"

"Yes, yes, go away, you useless fool." She shooed him as if he were a fly. Snape's lips pulled back in a snarl, but he left, closing the door behind him. Umbridge paced in front of him, before pausing, a considering look in her eye. "No matter. The Cruciatus Curse aught to loosen your tongue." She raised her wand, and Harry braced himself for the unnatural pain, but it never came.

"Tell her, Harry!" Hermione screamed.

Umbridge whipped her head to look at her with manic glee. "Tell me what?"

"About the weapon. The weapon Dumbledore charged us with keeping."

Umbridge was so happy at uncovering this conspiracy that she didn't notice Ron and Harry's twin looks of confusion. "Yes, where is this weapon?"

"It's in the Forbidden Forest, we had to keep it somewhere no one could stumble upon it accidentally."

"Show me."

 

* * *

 

They ran out of the Forbidden Forest, panting heavily. Hermione, clever, clever witch, had lured Umbridge to Grawp in the hopes that maybe the giant could save them. However, it had been the centaurs, and when Umbridge had started calling them "half-breeds of near human intelligence," she had been carried off. Good riddance. He hoped the centaurs killed her.

"What do we do now? We have to get to the Department of Mysteries!" They were running up the grounds towards the castle, but all Harry could think about was all the time they were wasting.

"We have to go back and get Ron."

"No need." They looked up to see Ron coming down the hill towards them, followed surprisingly by Neville, Ginny, and Luna. "The twins told them about what was going on, and they came to rescue me," he explained. "I filled them in."

"We want to help," Neville said bravely. The others nodded in accord.

"What, no," Harry shook his head. "I can't ask you to risk yourselves for me. It's bad enough Ron and Hermione are involved."

"We want to do it," Luna protested.

"But--"

Ginny stepped in front, looking fierce. "Then what was the point of teaching us all of those spells, if you're not going to let us use them? We're going to help you, Harry, whether you like it or not."

He withered under her intense gaze. "Ok, fine. But how are we going to get there?"

"We fly, of course," Luna said easily. She pointed her hand towards the dark forest where many sets of glowing eyes watched them from the dark. The thestrals.

 

* * *

 

Running down the long black corridor felt more like a dream than when he had dreamt it. He had done the same thing so many times at night, that the failsafes put in place didn't shock him as much as the others. He swept past the revolving room, going straight for the correct one, and dashing through the large chamber with the strange archway in it, and when he opened that final door to the room of shelves, his breath stopped.

"Come on, it's this way." He ran down the aisle, eyes flicking up to the golden placard denoting the numbers. 94, 95, 96... When he reached 97, he turned left, darting towards the shadows. He reached the end however, and found nothing. He stopped, fear welling up in his gut. He looked all around, but found nothing past the span of their wandlight. "He...He should be here. I don't..." He turned around and around, but all he saw was dusty shelves of globes. He searched the ground for any sign of blood or markings, but it was as dull as the other tiles.

"Harry," Neville's nervous voice drew his attention. "It's got your name on it." He pointed up at one of the crystal balls on the shelf. He picked it up and handed it to Harry.

The crystal orb was smooth and dusty in his hands. If he looked closer, it seemed as if he could see a person inside like their reflection in the water. With a wonder, he realized it was Professor Trelawney, of all people. Her eyes were blown wide behind her coke bottle glasses, and her hair especially wild.

"How good of you to finally join us, Potter."

They all whipped their heads around to see a Death Eater in their silver skull mask standing before them. With a slow wave of their hand, the mask disappeared to reveal Lucius Malfoy. He wore his usual condescending sneer, his familiar silver eyes on Harry.

"Where is Draco?"

"Not here, obviously," Lucius said with a smirk.

"How could you? Your own son!" He pointed his wand at the man, but he didn't even flinch. He couldn't believe this was the same man who had humbled himself to beg Severus Snape to save his only child.

"You saw him here, didn't you? Is your arrogance so great that you think you are always right? You saw only what the Dark Lord wanted you to see."

He stood there, unsure of whether to be relieved or not. So Draco wasn't here. Then why could none of them find him on the map? Had they just not looked long enough? But on the other hand, that meant Hermione was right, and that he had lead all of them down here into a trap.

"Now, Potter, hand me the prophecy." He gestured to the orb in his hand.

"Prophecy?" Is that what this was?

"Yes, the prophecy about you and the Dark Lord. Surely you didn't think he chose to murder a mere baby on some whim?"

Well, no, not really. He just thought Voldemort was slaughtering a family that opposed him, but now that he thought about it, it seemed a little strange for the Dark Lord himself to go murder a family on his own. Surely that was henchmen work?

"Haven't you ever wondered why?" He took a step closer.

Harry stared down at it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movements in the shadows from all directions. The other Death Eaters. They were trapped.

"All we want is that little prophecy. Just hand it over, and we'll be on our way." Lucius took another step closer.

"I've waited fourteen years..."

Lucius faked a sympathetic face. "I know."

"I can wait a few more. NOW!" At his command, all of the others cast _Stupefy_ at the Death Eaters. Those that weren't knocked back had turned into wispy black smoke to get out of the way. "To the exit! Go!"

They dashed down the aisle, spells whizzing past their heads. A masked Death Eater popped up right beside Ginny and she hit them with a Knockback Jinx that sent them flying away. It struck Harry then, how real this all was. He may have talked big game to the D.A., but any one of them could easily die tonight. They were school children going up against hardened criminals who would definitely be using darker spells than a Bat-Bogey Hex. He could hear the loud crash of shelves knocking over behind him, but before they could catch up to him, he was in that large chamber with the archway again. An ethereal veil billowed menacingly, if that was possible, and he could hear voices whispering to him from the other side.

He forgot all about the veil and the archway when his friends and the Death Eaters followed him inside. They turned to fight, but in their smokey forms, the Death Eaters had taken his friends hostage, wands at their necks. He was left alone, standing up on the raised dais, as Lucius calmly walked towards him.

"You see how pointless your efforts are? Now, give me the prophecy, or watch your little friends die."

Behind him, Harry saw Bellatrix Lestrange laugh maniacally with her wand pointed straight to Neville's throat.

"Why go through all this trouble to lure me here?" He knew he was stalling, though not what for. He had to think of some way out of this. "Why not just get it yourself?"

"The prophecy can only be taken from its place by those whom it is about. Hence, your required presence."

That didn't make sense. Neville had taken the prophecy off of the shelf, not him. "Then why didn't Voldemort just do it?"

"You dare speak his name, you filthy half-blood," Bellatrix shrieked.

Harry wanted to tell her that Voldemort was a half-blood too, but Lucius interrupted. "Calm down there, Bellatrix. The Dark Lord cannot just go waltzing into the Ministry when they so willingly blind themselves to his presence. Why lose the advantage, when you are so easy to trick?"

He deserved that, still it grated on his nerves. He almost considered chucking the damn thing at his head.

"Now, Potter. The prophecy." He extended his hand towards him.

Harry didn't know what to do. If Voldemort wanted this prophecy so bad, it couldn't be good to let it fall into his hands, but he couldn't just let his friends get murdered.

"Don't do it, Harry," Neville shouted before a Silencing Charm from Bellatrix Lestrange cut him off.

"Just hand it over."

Slowly, he moved his prophecy-laden hand towards Lucius, but a flash of light behind the Death Eater made him freeze. To his astonishment, and Lucius' when he turned around, Sirius Black stood, fist cocked back. "Get away from my godson." And then his knuckles met Lucius' cheek in a splendid right hook. The Dark Wizard stumbled back, and Sirius quickly pulled Harry behind him.

"Sirius!" Never before had he been so happy to see his godfather. The shaggy-haired man turned back to give him a heroic smile, before all around flashes of white smoke knocked the Death Eaters away from his friends. The Order of the Phoenix had arrived.

To his left, Remus appeared, dragging him away and down into the little trenches below the rocky dais. He struggled, wanting to be a part of the fight, but Remus hit him with a stern look that shut him up. Then he leapt back into the fray. All around different colored spells filled the air, some red, some white, and a horrifying number of them were green. His friends had all been pushed down into the trench, the safest place in the open room. They weren't entirely out of harm's way, however. A few times, he and the other D.A. members had to send a Death Eater flying, just to stay alive. He saw Neville erect a Shield Charm that saved Ginny's life, and for once, felt that maybe the D.A. hadn't been such a bad idea after all.

He had spent so long watching over his friends, that he didn't watch over himself. A hand clad in black leather grasped his arm tightly, pulling him towards an enraged Lucius Malfoy. "Give it to me!"

"No!" In their struggle, the orb fell from his hands and smashed onto the ground. Lucius cried out in dismay, his hold finally weakening enough for Harry to extract himself, but before he could run away or use a spell, a ghost-like figure emerged from the shattered pieces of the prophecy. Professor Trelawney, looking much the same if slightly younger, floated in front of them, her eyes wide and her voice a croak just loud enough for Harry to hear over the sounds of battle.

_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..._  
_born to those who have thrice defied him,_  
_born as the seventh month dies..._  
_and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal,_  
_but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not..._  
_The dragon's heart will not obey its false master._  
_A soul poisoned by an apple will seal their fates,_  
_for neither can live while the other survives._  
_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."_

And then she faded away, lost forever. He turned to look at Lucius, whose mouth was gaping open in terror. He wasn't sure if it were the words themselves or the fact that he had once again failed his master. Either way, Harry didn't give him time before he hit him with a Stunner. He didn't hang around long enough to see if he went down.

Up on the dais, the battle raged on. A spike of cold to his left drew his attention to Tonks fighting off some sort of ice spell with a blast of white-hot fire from her own wand. Behind her, he saw Mad-Eye stomp his staff on the ground and the shockwave sent two Death Eaters hurling back and into a wall. Far off somewhere, he could hear Bellatrix's evil laughter. But most importantly, he saw Remus and Sirius dueling back-to-back against three Death Eaters. One of them shot a stream of orange ropes from their wand, it wrapped around Remus, and when they tugged, he was sent flying off.

"Remus!" Sirius only turned a degree before he had to erect a Shield in time to save himself. With Remus and the other Death Eater now separated, he had to fight the final two Death Eaters on his own. Not if Harry had anything to do about it.

He rushed up to him, his wand waving, and his mouth yelling, "Expelliarmus!" Unfortunately, the Death Eater blocked it, but at least now he got his attention off of Sirius. He rushed to his side, hurling spell after spell. The two Death Eaters stumbled back, but still managed to block all of their blows. Beside him, Sirius laughed daringly, flicking his wrist, and his Death Eater's legs buckled. The villain muttered the countercurse quickly and was back on his feet. Harry cast the Disarming Charm again, and this time it sent his opponent's wand flying.

Beside him Sirius laughed again, as if they were all playing Quidditch. "Nice one, James."

Harry froze, the breath knocked out of him, he stared at Sirius and felt his heart break a little.

It all happened at once. He heard Bellatrix's shrieking laughter, and saw a red jet of light headed towards him. Then, strong hands wrapped around his arms and pushed him so that he tripped over his heels and began to fall backwards, but not fast enough to avoid the sight before him. Remus, having pushed him back, was now in Harry's spot, right in front of Sirius, when the red spell hit him square in the chest. He was knocked back, off of his feet, and straight through the archway. The strange veil billowed around him, wrapping him up and out of sight. Remus did not reappear on the other side.

Then he landed on his back, and he didn't even feel the blow. He clambered to his feet, rushing towards the archway, but someone, Tonks, wrapped her arms around him to hold him back. He knew he was crying, screaming, even as she spoke into his ear. "He's gone, Harry. He's gone."

He heard Sirius cry out, and fearfully, Harry thought his godfather had been killed too, but he was standing in front of the archway, looking as if someone had just used the Entrail-Expelling Curse on him. And then he really did get hit with a spell, that (luckily) sent him away from the arch.

Above it all, he heard Bellatrix cackle happily in sing-song, "I killed a werewolf! I killed a filthy wolf!"

"I'll kill her!" Even Tonks wasn't strong enough to hold him back from her. He tore from her grip, and bolted after the mad witch. She dashed off down a corridor, away from the battle, and he chased her all the way to the main lobby before he finally tripped her up. She slid across the tiled floor. He caught up to her, this evil woman, this murderer. He pointed his wand at her. _"Crucio!"_

She gave one single twitch, before looking at him with that stupid smile. Why didn't it work? He wanted her to hurt, to hurt as she had hurt him.

_You have to mean it, Harry._

The dark cloud loomed over him now, swallowing up his vision until all he could see was Bellatrix, lying prone before him. Remus, who wears cardigans and listens to swing music. Remus, who knows just how to make Sirius' tea depending on his mood. Remus, who hoped that some day he might have children with the man he loved.

_She killed him. Make her pay. Make her suffer._

His hand shook, and he had already begun to turn when a disgusted snarl and a waved hand sent his wand flying away from him. Lord Voldemort walked towards him, lipless mouth open in a hissing snarl. He looked just the same as he did on his resurrection. Still pale and skeletal and snake-like. "You are weak." Harry couldn't negate him.

Then, in a flare of green fire, Dumbledore walked out of one of the many floos available. He strode next to Harry, eyes on Voldemort the entire time. "It was foolish of you to come here tonight, Tom. The Aurors are on their way."

"By which time I shall be gone, and you dead." His smile was disturbing, even more so than Bella's. And then the duel began.

Harry was quickly shoved out of the way with a wave of Dumbledore's hand. It sent him hurtling to the side, by one of the floos, and he felt grateful for the minimal cover when lightning began to dance everywhere. He watched as two gods did battle. If the fight in that archway room had been impressive, this was terrifying. With each powerful attack conjured by Voldemort, an even more powerful defense and counter was hurtled by Dumbledore.

At one point, there had been a giant snake of fire, and then Voldemort was in a ball of the water from the fountain. And then Dumbledore had enchanted the statues to move, and to counter, Voldemort had summoned an army of shadowy warriors. One of the statues was transfigured into a dragon, he didn't know by which, but it was exploded in a horrible mess by the other.

It soon became apparent that the two of them were evenly matched. Voldemort sent the Killing Curse at Dumbledore many times, but it either missed or was deflected. "You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?"

"There are worse things than death, Tom."

"There is nothing worse than death." He sent another bolt of green light, but Dumbledore disappeared and reappeared behind Voldemort. Twin beams of light burst from each of their wands and connected, splashing magic everywhere. When it became clear neither of them would be the victor, they both pulled back, ending their spells.

Then, Voldemort turned into a wisp of smoke and disappeared. Harry thought he had fled, but then he heard a hissing breath, and felt something forcefully enter him. It was like Snape's lessons but a hundred times worse. He could feel Voldemort's slick and dark presence invading his mind, his very soul, like oil in water. His legs buckled underneath him, too weak to hold him anymore, and he thrashed about on the floor, unable to get away from the source of his pain. It felt like claws were running down his insides, tearing him to shreds, and yet he was still there. Visions flashed across his mind's eye, and even when his eyelids cinched close, he could not escape them.

_The Dursleys sneering at him, Peter Pettigrew getting away, Cedric Diggory falling to the ground in a flash of green light, "Your father was a swine," Draco tied up on the floor, nose bleeding._

He fought against these images and the pain that accompanied them. Still, they assaulted him. There was another feeling, aside from the pain, a foreign entity. Surprise, curiosity, and then realization. The pain drowned out all of this.

_The scream of a woman, Remus falling backwards through the veil, Harry, eyes glowing red, lips pulled back in a disgusting facsimile of a smile, "LOOK AT ME," crying alone in the Owlery, Draco's face as his wand flew out of his hand, "Freak!"_

'So weak. So vulnerable.'

'No,' he shouted in his mind. Then the flashes changed.

_Hugging Hermione after waking up in the Hospital Wing, Remus handing him a piece of chocolate, Ron showing him his first Christmas present, flying on his broom and catching the Snitch, Sirius hugging him._

He could feel the alien presence in his mind recoil in disgust.

_Draco flying beside him and laughing, Draco with snowflakes in his eyelashes, Draco kissing him in the Shrieking Shack, Draco's head on his lap, peaceful in sleep, Draco above him, tears falling down his face._

'You're the weak one. And you'll never know friendship or love. And I feel sorry for you.'

Voldemort hissed in anger, and while his hold on Harry weakened, he didn't disappear entirely. 'Love, is it? You think it your greatest strength, but it is your greatest weakness.' He saw Draco, clad in Death Eater robes, looking at him in disgust. _"Who could ever love you?"_

'No, that's not him.'

'Isn't it? How do you think I put the image of Draco in your head? Why is it you could not find him at Hogwarts? That's because he came to me on his own. You see, he had always been my spy, and once he'd had his taste of you, he returned to me, and told us all about how he fucked the Boy-Who-Lived.'

'No, no.'

'Did you actually think he loved you? Your love is a curse, Harry. Everyone who has ever loved you dies. Your parents, Remus, and now Sirius. It's a good thing your godfather died too, or he would hate you for getting Remus killed.'

'No, that's not true.' But he hadn't seen Sirius get back up, had he? And it really was all his fault that everyone was endangering themselves, that Remus had been murdered.

'Which is worse? That Draco betrayed you, or that you betrayed him? You're a murderer, Harry. Just like me.'

'No. That's not true.' But he felt weak, and heartbroken, and the dark cloud of doubt seeped inside of him, blotting out all light. He wanted Draco, Sirius, Remus, his parents to hold him, to tell him everything would be alright, that he wasn't a bad person, but they would never be able to tell him those things ever again.

'No...' The darkness filled him up inside, seeping out from his heart and corrupting his body, until it felt numb. It still moved, but not by his command.

Just before the darkness swallowed him completely, he felt himself rise to his feet and crack an alien smile at a terror-stricken Dumbledore. "You've lost, old man." And then Harry Potter was no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't bear to leave you guys on such a cliffhanger, so I'm posting the Epilogue as well.


	11. Epilogue

Albus wondered when the years would finally catch up to him. He sat at his desk, staring at the sunlight that spilled happily onto the various parchments and books strewn on top of the old mahogany. He gazed wearily at Fawkes on his perch beside him, and wished he too could burst into flame and start anew as someone completely different. Would he ever stop atoning for Ariana's death? Would his sins ever stop piling up?

"Professor, please, we have to save him!" Draco Malfoy was a broken, sobbing mess in his office, and he felt grateful for the large desk between them. His grief felt like an accusation. "He'll kill him!"

He didn't say anything. What could he say? That the entire Order of the Phoneix, nay, the wizarding world was out searching for Harry at this very moment? That even after two days, they still could not find him? Between Sirius Black alternately shouting and pleading at him, and Draco's blatant grief, Albus wondered if these people could ever forgive him. He had seen how Tom's control over Harry's mind had grown over the year, how his avoidance of him was destroying their relationship, but as always he thought he knew better, had thought that he was lessening Harry's burden by removing the temptation (himself) from him. He couldn't even blame Snape for failing to properly teach Harry Occlumency. He knew of their strenuous relationship, had known that Snape's teaching methods had never worked on the boy. He should have taught him himself, but he had been a scared fool. "No, I don't believe he will. Voldemort is if anything pragmatic. He wouldn't keep his greatest enemy alive, even to torture him. Harry has proven time and again how easily he can thwart his plans." No, never easily. "Voldemort would not have been able to resist brandishing his corpse to the world."

Draco recoiled, and he chastised himself for his lack of tact in front of the poor boy. "But it's my fault he was taken. If I hadn't been so stupid to believe Pansy's threat--"

The hand on Draco's shoulder squeezed, and for the first time that afternoon, Severus spoke. "You believed your life to be in danger, within good reason, and chose to do the sensible thing and go to your professor to put you into hiding. It's not your fault that Potter hadn't been informed in time. It's not your fault he decided to play the hero and run off without telling anyone."

Albus knew his ire came from frustration at himself and not at the boy. He held up a hand. "The blame lies with Voldemort alone for taking the boy from us." And with him, for allowing it to happen. This whole situation worried him greatly, more so than was called for. As horrible as it may be to admit, the lack of a dead body was concerning. Could Tom have figured out what he suspected?

"Please, sir, let me help. We have to save him. I'll do anything."

Albus looked at the Malfoy boy, seeing a look very familiar to one he had seen before. He glanced up into Severus' eyes, and saw that same look again. "Despite what the Ministry might think, I do not employ child-soldiers. You are much too precious to throw into the line of fire. Please, let the adults handle this matter. I know we haven't given you much reason to, but please trust us."

The hard look of the boy's shoulders told him how much he would adhere to that. He sighed, and wondered when the fate of the world had fallen into the hands of children. He mourned the loss of their childhood. "We will find him, Draco." Why did it feel like an empty promise?

If his theories were correct, then Draco was just as precious as Harry. He had never understood that part of the prophecy about a dragon, but with Harry and the boy's growing relationship, he thought he just might now. But what role did he play in the greater scheme of things? Either way, their best hope was to keep the two of them together, and to do that, they would need to find Harry. He just hoped they weren't too late when they finally did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends Book 2. Sorry to leave it in such a horrible state, but this is setting up the plot for the entire third installment, Agape. Needless to say, everything changes from here. The next book is going to be much longer and more action-packed than the previous ones, as now the war is going to be in full swing. I'm sort of combining the 6th and 7th books into one.
> 
> As always, comments and criticisms are welcome, and I ask that you please be patient while I write the third book. Thank you so much for reading these stories!


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